Do As They Do
by LegendsofLit
Summary: Lives are changed when one wrong decision sends hundreds of demigods on a journey of a a thousand miles. As they live in their new home, these demigods learn that change IS difficult, but you just have to adapt. And, like they say, 'Do as the Romans do.'
1. Prologue

_**Do As They Do**_

_**By: xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, musiclover99, bubble drizzles, Eleos, larkgrace, bookluva98**_

**AN: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. Do you eyes deceive you? Are you _really _reading the first official chapter(alright, _prologue_) of _Do As They Do_?**

**Oh, heck, yes.**

**We're about nine chapters into writing an approximately twenty-five chapter story, so updates won't be as frequent as we'd like, but rest assured, this will be updated. We decided to post it because, well, I, for one, am sick and tired of flames from certain people about the J/A pairing. Hopefully, this prologue sort of begins to explain how.**

**Now, I'm going to laugh because all of you are going to feel incredibly stupid, because _HA HA_, we have been tricking you all this time. I think you'll understand more when you read, but just a heads up: Pretty much all of our stories take place in TLH, right? Or so you think. (;**

**I'm done spoiling. May I present to you, the prologue of _Do As They Do_.**

**Disclaimer: We don't own PJO/HoO.**

* * *

_Prologue_

_By: xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx_

* * *

_At Ogygia_

Percy Jackson walked back to Calypso's oh so familiar meadow, heart heavy. How could he—a simple demigod—cause that much chaos? Did he really blow up a _mountain_? All those people... evacuated from their home. Some had been injured; others were suffering from illnesses, all because of him.

_What had he done?_

And, that wasn't even the half of it. Hephaestus had pretty much come and told him that—oh yeah—in order to find Daedalus, he had to ask Rachel Dare for help. There was no way in Hades that Annabeth was going to let him doing that... She'd probably rather die in the Labyrinth than get help from a mortal—let alone _Rachel._

Percy ran a frustrated hand through his hair, finally reaching the meadow. Calypso, as usual, was tending to her glowing flowers. Despite the inner turmoil that the conversation had brought, Percy had to smile. She didn't even try to be, but Calypso was beautiful. She just... was.

"He has ordered you to return." It wasn't a question; it was a statement. Her voice was sad, terse, like she already knew that it was coming.

Percy shook his head. "Well, not ordered," he admitted as he walked up to her.

The two locked eyes, and in a slightly nervous, quiet voice, Calypso said, "I promised I would not offer."

"Offer what?"

"For you to stay," she said, voice growing quieter with every word.

The son of Poseidon seemed stunned. "Stay," he said, brows furrowing. "Like... forever?"

Calypso nodded. "You would be immortal on this island," she whispered. "You would never age or die. You could leave the fight to others, Percy Jackson. You could escape your prophecy."

If possible, Percy was even more stunned. She really was tempting him... An eternity spent in a beautiful island, with a beautiful girl... A chance to escape the stress of being the prophecy child...

"Just like that?" he said, finally after a couple of moments of stunned silence.

With a nod, she confirmed, "Just like that."

"But…my friends." Percy looked down. He wanted to stay... but he just couldn't...

Calypso rose and took his hand, a small, sad smile resting on her face. "You asked about my curse, Percy. I did not want to tell you." Her voice shook. "The truth is the gods send me companionship from time to time. Every thousand years or so, they allow a hero to wash up on my shores, someone who needs my help. I tend to him and befriend him, but it is never random. The Fates make sure that the sort of hero they send…"

Her voice trailed off, and she looked down, refusing to meet the son of Poseidon's eyes.

Percy squeezed her hand tightly. "What? What have I done to make you sad?" he whispered in a sincere, loving voice.

Finally, she looked up, expression pained. In a soft murmur, Calypso explained,

"They send a person who can never stay," she croaked. "Who can never accept my offer of companionship for more than a little while. They send me a hero I can't help…just the sort of person I can't help falling in love with."

A silence settled over the two; the only sound that could be heard was the gurgle of the fountains and the waves crashing gently against the shore.

"Me?" Percy finally said, his voice shocked.

"If you could see your face." Calypso said with a small, sad smile. She stared at the demigod intently, and said in a soft voice, "Of course, you."

"That's why you've been pulling away all this time?"

"I tried very hard," she said, "but I can't help it. The Fates are cruel. They sent you to me, my brave one, knowing that you would break my heart."

Percy still looked very surprised. "But…I'm just…I mean, I'm just _me,_" he stammered.

"That is enough," Calypso promised. Her voice was strained, like she wanted to go on, but was forcing herself not to. "I told myself I would not even speak of this. I would let you go without even offering. But I can't. I suppose the Fates knew that, too. You could stay with me, Percy. I'm afraid that is the only way you could help me."

His hand intertwined in Calypso's, Percy stared at the beautiful horizon. Dawn was appearing. He contemplated Calypso's offer; with this one choice, he could be free of everything. He wouldn't have to worry about the prophecy—about possibly dying. He'd have everything he would need here. He could be with Calypso for all of eternity. He could just... disappear from the world.

Percy's heart sank. He thought of Annabeth... of his mom. And Grover, and Tyson, and Rachel... If he stayed here, he'd never see any of them ever again. The offer was so tempting... The pros outweighed the cons...

"I want to stay," Percy said softly. Calypso looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to state why he couldn't, but no other words were said by the demigod. Her eyes widened. He couldn't actually stay... could he?

"You... mean it?" she whispered, excitement bubbling inside of her.

Percy smiled at her and nodded. "I... I know I haven't know you that long," he muttered, a rosy blush spreading to his cheeks, "but... I think I do like you... and I wish I could stay here with you."

Calypso beamed at him. "Well, then, Percy Jackson," she said softly. "Your wish is my command."

* * *

_On Mt. Olympus_

"Is the lad _insane_?" Hephaestus roared. The god's eyes were glued on the IM of Percy Jackson and Calypso, who were currently staring at each other lovingly and just talking and chatting, have not a single clue that thirteen immortal beings were watching them like a TV show.

"Not insane," Aphrodite corrected, an adoring smile on her face, "_lovestruck_!"

Poseidon narrowed his eyes at the goddess, but chose to keep his mouth shut, at least to her. Instead, he turned to Zeus and asked, "Well, what now?"

Mutters arose from the other gods and goddesses, all looking at the King of the Gods, who was staring intently at the IM, while he stroked his gray beard.

"Well," he said, at long last, "what do you suppose we do?"

"Force him off the island?" Ares suggested with a slight grin. He unsheathed his sword, grinning wickedly.

"We gave the boy a choice for a reason, Ares," Artemis said, cutting him off with a stern glare. "Obviously, he made the _wrong _choice, which proves that he must not have been cut out for being the prophecy child."

"Oh, come on, Artemis! Can't I just cream the punk a _little _bit?"

Poseidon sent the war god a harsh glare. "There will be _no_ creaming of my son, Ares." He looked around the room of the gods. "Anyone else have an idea?"

"Why don't we just let the prophecy pass to the next Big Three child?" Dionysus said lazily with a shrug. "Hades's kid... Oh, what's his name? Nicky? Nicholas?"

"_Nico_," Hades corrected, crossing his arms. He looked annoyed to be here, and very out of place amidst the large, fancy thrones sitting in his own makeshift stone seat.

"As much as it pains me to say this," Athena said with a sigh, "Dionysus is correct. We must let the prophecy pass to the next demigod child of the Big Three. If it is Nico, then he will be the child of the prophecy."

Hades smiled smugly at his two brothers, who just looked annoyed. Most of the gods nodded their agreement to Athena's(technically, Dionysus's) plan.

All except for Hera, who wore a frown.

"Apollo," she said, turning to look at her step-son, "this Great Prophecy... Was it passed to the Romans, as well as the Greeks?"

All the gods in the throne room tensed at the mention of their other sides... This was the first time in a while that someone actually brought up the Roman gods.

"Yes..." the god of prophecy said hesitantly, eyes shifting back and forth to various places in the room. "Why?"

A smug smile slid onto the Queen of the Heavens' face. "Then, I believe that it means that Hades's... _spawn _is actually not the prophecy child."

Hades did not look the slightest bit pleased at this news. Teeth gritted, he spat, "Who?"

Hera flashed a sweet, but cold smile to her brother. "Jason Grace," she said smoothly. "_My_ champion."

Hermes, having been to the Roman equivalent of Camp Half-Blood as Mercury, looked at the goddess curiously. "Jason Grace," he said, slightly warily, "son of Jupiter? Thalia Grace's little brother? Member of the Fifth Cohort?"

"And champion of Juno," Hera said proudly. "That is him. He will be the child of the prophecy."

"That can't happen!" Hades argued, throwing his hands up into the air. "Kronos is _clearly _going after the _Greeks_, not the _Romans_! The only way for Jason to be the prophecy child would be if..." His voice trailed off, but the gods in the room knew what he was going to say.

"So, what do we plan on doing?" Apollo said finally, breaking the ice. "Are we going to do it?"

Zeus frowned, and he looked at the twelve other immortals, dead serious. "It must be done," he said, "but the Council will take a vote. All in favor?"

Several hands in the room went up—Hera's, Athena's, Apollo's, Aretmis's, Zeus's, Aphrodite's...

"Okay," Zeus said with another frown. "All against?"

The remaining gods' hands went up, except for Ares's. All eyes turned to the war god, who merely shrugged uncaringly.

"Ares, what is your vote?" Hera asked impatiently. "We have little time."

A cold smile slid onto the god's face, and out of nowhere, a knife appeared, and he began picking underneath his dirty fingernails with it. "Do I look like I really care?" he said with another shrug.

"You will _care_," Artemis said in a cold hiss, "when your home is _destroyed_, and Kronos makes you his prisoner!"

Ares rolled his eyes, slouching into his throne. "Fine, fine. Chill out. My guess is that, if they unite, there'll be some bloodshed involved. So, I'm for it."

"So be it," Zeus said. "The Council has decided that we will reunite the two sides."

The King of the Gods' form began to flicker. His grew taller and thinner; his beard shortened. His pinstripe suit changed to a regal, purple toga, lined with gold. On his head, he wore a golden laurel, and a gladius hung at his side.

The god, now in the form of Jupiter, frowned gravely at the other gods, some who were also in the process of changing to their Roman forms, in the room. "It's time," he said grimly. "It's time for Rome and Greece to be reunited."

* * *

**AN: Dun. Dun. DUN. **

**If you guys can guess the quote that this title is based off of, you'll get a few virtual cookies. (::) (::) (::) See? :) (It's so obvious, guys.)**

**Thanks for reading! Happy Easter! **

**-Lex **


	2. Chapter One: I Get A Death Warrant

**_Do As They Do_**

**_By: xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, musiclover99, bubble drizzles, Eleos, larkgrace, bookluva98_**

**AN: Hola, lovelies. Callie (larkgrace) writing. Now for a show of hands: how many of you were stuck scratching your heads and saying, "Huh?" after the prologue? Don't be shy; we can all relate. (Okay, I can't, I saw it coming.)**

**And to all the reviewers who screamed "OH MY GODS IS PERCY NOT GOING TO BE IN THIS THE WORLD IS ENDING" and then proceeded to curl up in a little ball and sob "Percabeth" for a few hours, cheer up and dry your damp eyes. Never fear, Percy will come to the rescue (eventually), which should probably worry you more than his being gone.  
**

**Don't worry, Uncle Rick, I'm only _borrowing_ your Percy Jackson characters. I'll put them back in the box when I'm done playing. Promise.**

**Enjoy Lex's delicious virtual cookies and read on!  
**

* * *

_Chapter One_

_By: larkgrace_

* * *

**Playlist l **"Breathe" - Taylor Swift; "Run Daddy Run" - Miranda Lambert (feat. Pistol Annies); "Cave In" - Owl City; "Get Out Alive" - Three Days Grace; "Come Away To The Water" - Maroon 5 (feat. Rozzi Crane)_  
_

* * *

_Annabeth_

_At Camp Half-Blood_

"But, Chiron—"

"Annabeth, my dear, I am sorry. But I'm afraid we have to look at the facts. Odds are—"

"Odds? Since when do odds count? We're _demigods!"_

He continued talking, ignoring her interruption. "Odds are that Percy perished in the explosion. We cannot continue to wait for his return."

Her face flushed. "He's not dead! Damn it, he told me he would—he _swore_ he would get out! He'll come back!" A strange pressure welled up in her chest, like she was going to start crying—but no. There was no need for crying. He would come back. He _promised._

"Regardless, there is a _war_ on our horizon, and we need to plan. We can't afford to waste time waiting for Percy to return, nor can we spare any demigods for a quest to search for him. If he is to come back, he will have to do so on his own." His expression was soft, sympathetic. He'd cared about Percy, too. But Chiron had seen thousands of heroes die. And no one cared about Percy the way she did. _No one._

Chiron placed a hand on her shoulder. "Annabeth, if he did survive, burning his shroud won't do him any harm. But the other campers need closure before we can resume planning. Do you understand?"

She nodded slowly, her vision blurry, and she blinked furiously. He wasn't dead. No tears. She couldn't afford to be weak, not right now.

"Very well," he said. "I'll ask the other cabins if they would like to volunteer to make the shroud—"

"No!" she snapped, her voice cracking. Then, softer, "No. I'll…I'll make it."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his ancient eyes full of concern as he surveyed her expression.

"I'm sure," she whispered. "May I go?"

"You are dismissed," he said, and she turned and flew from the Big House before he could see her tears.

_Damn you, Seaweed Brain, you promised you'd come home._

* * *

"…asked his best surviving friend to do the final honors," Chiron finished, giving Annabeth a small nod and clopping to the edge of the amphitheater. She stepped forward, clutching the silken sheet that she had spent so many tears and so much time making, wanting to draw out her denial. He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead. He wasn't dead.

She gently laid the shroud on the fire, gasping with an almost physical pain as the flames licked away the last shreds of hope she had been so desperately clutching like a lifeline. Then, eyes swollen with unshed tears, she slowly turned to face the crowd.

"He was probably the bravest friend I've ever had," she croaked. "He…he was a great hero." Not much of a speech, but it was all she could handle.

And then, before she could finish contemplating whether she wanted to sit down or go hide in some isolated place, a brilliant light flashed at the top of the amphitheater. She caught a glimpse of curly black hair, and her spirits rose—_he came back!—_but it was only Mr. D, looking even more irritable than usual.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said, sounding as though he didn't care what kind of news it really was. "Perry Johnson will not be returning."

There were gasps and whispers, quiet at first but spreading like wildfire through the demigods as the implications of Dionysus' statement sank in. _Not coming back. Dead? He's dead?_

Annabeth's stomach seemed to drop straight through her feet, all the way into Tartarus.

"Also," the wine god drawled, "Lord Zeus seems to feel the need to have you _informed_ that you are not the only demigods in existence."

More whispers, this time confused: _What does he mean? Must be the undiscovered ones. How many mortals have they been knocking up?_

"Honestly, if you brats don't shut your mouths, I will turn you all into shrubs and we won't have to worry about Ares' coveted bloodshed!" Dionysus snapped. The crowd silenced immediately.

"Now," he continued, "I was told that you needed to know about the other camp."

"Mr. D," Chiron started, stepping forward, but the god silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Yes, yes, I know Zeus decreed they be kept apart. He has changed his mind, due to…_complications_ with the Great Prophecy.

"Since you imbeciles obviously know _nothing_ about your histories, I suppose I will have to fill you in. The Romans conquered the Greeks, adopted the gods, gave them new names, built a mighty empire, blah, blah, et cetera et cetera. The Greek gods—yes, myself included—took on new personalities and presided over Rome until its fall. And before any of you ask an inappropriate question, _yes,_ there were Roman demigods, and still are today.

"Your Roman counterparts have their own camp, in a valley on the West coast, and since Pedro's unfortunate absence—" Annabeth choked a little—"will not be filled, the Great Prophecy needs a hero. This hero, the next oldest child of the three major gods, is a Roman."

There was a weighted silence as this soaked in. Then, one simple question, issued from Will Solace:

"Who is it?"

Dionysus glared at them. "His name is Jason."

* * *

_Jason_

_At Camp Jupiter_

"Fifth Cohort, advance!" Gwen shouted.

Just loud enough so that he could be heard over the rhythmic thuds of the Fifth's tortoise formation moving forward, Jason muttered, "Yeah, advance to our inevitable humiliation."

Gwen shot him a stern glare, softened somewhat by her sympathetic smile. She knew what it felt like to be on the losing side of the war games.

Before the First Cohort could begin firing flaming balls of unicorn dung, though, the ground trembled, sending a few of the top-heavy new kids whose armor was far too big toppling to the ground. And then a burst of flame flared up from the ground in the middle of the field, and out of the fire stepped Mars, his war helm tucked under his arm and his eyes blazing.

"Hey, punks," he growled, "I've got a message."

Reyna directed her pegasus to the ground, nearly falling off in her hurry to bow deeply at the god's feet. "My—my lord!" she stammered. He waved her off and shifted the _pilium_ clutched in his fist.

"Lord Jupiter sent me to tell you all some pretty important news, so it would be in your best interests to listen close," he said. "The gods have a little problem, and we're gonna need you to fix it for us." His fiery eyes searched the crowd. "You all know about the Great Prophecy. Half-Blood of the eldest gods, reaping a hero's soul, that one. Our _hero—"_ his scarred mouth twisted into a cruel smirk—"has disappointed us. So we need to chose a new champion."

"I—I beg your pardon, Lord Mars, but who was the champion?" Octavian spluttered.

Mars shot him a disgusted glare and growled, "Quiet, punk." Octavian bowed so low Jason thought he was going to lick the pegasus crap smoldering in the grass and scurried away.

"The old champion was a Greek," Mars said, and the field exploded in stunned shouts. _What? Greek? How is that possible? _The war god silenced them with a look and said, "Yeah, Greek. They worshipped us first, and they stuck around. Anyway, the old champion won't be coming back, so we had to choose a new one." His burning gaze landed on Jason. "You, Jason, get up here."

He froze. No way. Not him. It _couldn't _be.

"Lord Mars," he said, stepping forward, "I'm sorry, but I think you're wrong. That prophecy can't be about _me."_ Because, after all, he was just another foot soldier from the Fifth. He wasn't a hero. There had to be a mistake.

"I'm not wrong, boy," Mars assured him. "You're the one with a sword over your head now. Have your praetors fill you in on the prophecy, since I have better things to do. Have fun killing each other," he said, with a wicked laugh, and then vanished in another column of flame.

Reyna got shakily to her feet, whirling and gesturing to her partner, Lucas. Then she snapped, "Come on, Jason," and stormed off the battlefield.

He followed, slowly, dazed. The other campers parted around him like he had some contagious disease that they didn't want to catch. He heard disjointed bits of conversations through his stupor:

_Wonder what happened to the last guy—_

_Gonna get his soul reaped—_

_Poor Jason—_

He did his best to block out the words. He didn't want to contemplate the last hero's fate, much less his own.

He made his way to the _principia_, where Reyna and Lucas had already taken their seats on their thrones, Argentum and Aurum curled up at Reyna's feet.

"This prophecy isn't good news for you, Jason," Lucas said without preamble.

"Do I ever get to hear it?" Jason snapped, because from the way Mars talked the praetors had.

Reyna turned to her partner. "Lucas, will you read it?"

He nodded and pulled a tiny scroll of paper from a little compartment on the side of his throne, which reminded Jason of a miniature cup holder. Lucas cleared his throat and read:

"_A half-blood of the eldest gods_

_Shall reach sixteen, against all odds_

_And see the world in endless sleep_

_The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap_

_A single choice shall end his days_

_Olympus to preserve or raze."_

Both praetors stared at him with grave expressions.

"Damn," Jason muttered.

* * *

**AN (again): Hey, I never said Percy was going to show up right away. The dude isn't known for his punctuality.**

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	3. Chapter Two: We Have a Family Reunion

_**Do As They Do**_

_**By: xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, musiclover99, bubble drizzles, Eleos, larkgrace, bookluva98**_

**AN: Oh, hello you wonderful readers who are reviewing a lot and making all of us happy! 'Tis I, Gigi (bubble drizzles), the most boring of the seven authors, and the one who hasn't written anything since last year. Writer's block sucks, doesn't it?**

**Now wait a minute, back it up a bit. Those of you who pay more attention to our lovely author's notes may be asking yourselves, "Did she say _seven_ authors? Is she crazy?" No, my dears, I am not crazy. At least not that much. . . yet. **

**But, if I'm not crazy and really meant seven authors, does this mean. . . ? Yes. It does. We have a new addition to our team. Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for . . . _Kelly_, also known as, _livingondaydreams_! *applause* She'll be joining us in later chapters and she's an amazing write, I bet you'll all love her.**

**Before we begin our chapter, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Yes, I just stole that from Harry Potter! And yes, I'm a loser who has nothing better to do with her life and so she just writes annoying and stupid ANs! Thank you! **

**Disclaimer: We don't own PJO/HoO. **

**On to the story before someone kills me. :)**

* * *

_Chapter Two:_

_By: bubble drizzles_

* * *

**Playlist II:** "Smells Like Teen Spirit" - Nirvana ; "Born For This" - Paramore ;

* * *

_At Camp Half-Blood._

"Chiron, I am _not _teaming up with a mortal, much less that…witch!" Annabeth spat. Fate of the world or not, it wasn't happening.

"Annabeth, you have no other choice. You _must_ finish this quest, and you need a guide. Rachel may be your only option."

"But—"

"_Annabeth." _He gave her a stern stare that left no room for questions.

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll go ask the _stupid_ mortal for help."

She stomped back to her cabin before Chiron could force her into any more unpleasant tasks, or worse, make her apologize for calling Rachel stupid.

* * *

Camp Half-Blood was in utter chaos. Campers running around, saying that the arrival of the Roman demigods would be the end of the world as they knew it, trying to learn as much as they could about Roman culture, the differences between Greek and Roman gods, their military style, speculating about how the new prophecy kid —_Jason_—would be.

As worried as they were about the arrival of their Roman half-brothers and sister, Percy's disappearance - they refused to call it his _death_ - was still subject of many conversations. How could _Percy Jackson_ disappear? Surely, he would come back. To many, he seemed invincible.

The thought that he might never show up again didn't give much hope to the campers.

_"_If _Percy Jackson_ didn't make it, what chance do _we_ have?_"_ Some, like Michael Yew, would question. "How could we possibly battle without our greatest leader?"

_"_We still have Annabeth_," _Others, such as Lou Ellen, would reply_. "_Though she's not the prophecy kid, she's as much of a leader as Percy. Not to mention her amazing battle strategies."

"Didn't you guys hear?" Travis Stoll asked one day, as everyone was in the amphitheatre waiting for Chiron, "Annabeth's back in the Labyrinth."

The campers' eyes widened. How would they survive _now_? The only hope they had was back in the Labyrinth, dealing with it's tricks and lies. Alone. And in one of her most fragile moments.

"Poor Annabeth," Katie Gardner said, closing her eyes tightly. "I thought we hadn't seen her because she was in her cabin. I thought . . . I thought maybe she didn't want to see anyone because she was still sad over the Percy thing."

"Travis and I overheard her talking to Chiron yesterday night. She's going to try and find Daedalus, Grover and Tyson, and stop Kronos' army from getting here." Connor explained. "We also heard Chiron say something about getting a mortal's help."

"What?"

"A _mortal?_"

"What could a mortal possibly know that Annabeth doesn't?"

"How will that be of any help?"

"Can a mortal even _see_ the Labyrinth?"

_"Enough!" _Chiron's booming voice echoed as he entered the amphitheatre.

Everyone quieted down. "You might be wondering why I have asked all of you to meet me here. I have an important announcement; I have received the list with the names of the campers who shall be going to Camp Jupiter, the Roman camp, tomorrow morning."

_Silence_.

"Mr. D was at Olympus this morning, and the gods have decided which people shall go and which shall stay. Now, when I call your names please stand up and make your way up the stage, is that clear?"

All of them nodded quietly. Chiron took a scroll out from a pocket in his shirt and started reading.

"_From the Demeter cabin: Katie Gardner; Maxwell Wilson; Rosalind Crist; Demetri Matthews and Samuel Baughman. _

_From the Ares cabin: Sherman Artime; Lanie Judah; Philip King; Elisha Discord and Ashton Rapp. _

_The Athena cabin: Malcolm Cambridge; Gracie Whitaker; Benjamin Einstein and Alison Oxford. _

_Apollo campers: Austin Swift; Riley Adagio; Claire Bridge; Michael Bayless; Tori Osborne and Wesley Harper_."

As he called their names, campers stood up and walked towards him. Some happy to be chosen, others, terrified.

"_Hephaestus: Jake Mason; Ally Vesta; Harley Vulcan and Christopher Bell. _

_Aphrodite: Drew Davids; Rainee Hart and Alex Cooper. _

_Hermes, which includes the children of the minor gods: Travis Stoll; Adeline Camp; Zachary Morgan; Emily Strait; Kaden Alva from Eris and Lou Ellen Rayne from Hecate. _

_Dionysus: Pollux Vin."_

As the last called camper made his way to the stage, Chiron looked at them sympathetically, "I trust you all will behave. Do not pick fights with your fellow Romans; you are at their home. Try to get along. The gods did not wish to tell you of the other camp's existence because they expected bloodshed. Here is your chance to prove them wrong. Get a good sleep and pack your things; you shall leave early tomorrow. Good luck."

And with that, he left.

* * *

_At Camp Jupiter_

"Fifth Cohort!" Gwendolyn called, without success. "Guys!"

The discovery of the Greeks led to a lot of talking in the Cohorts. Greeks and Romans had a long - and _bloody_ - history. Pondering about what the Greeks - _those weaklings_, they called them - would be like was all they were doing ever since Mars' visit.

"Fifth Cohort!" she tried again, this time in a louder, harsher tone. "Listen up, everybody! Pay attention!"

All the talking ceased. Gwen was usually nice, friendly and with a good temper, but when she got mad someone _always_ ended up getting hurt. While she wasn't as strong and powerful as Reyna, all of the Fifth Cohort - and other Cohorts too - respected her greatly.

"Reyna and Lucas have called us to the Principia, they say it's important. Now, I want you all to line up. Quickly, quickly, come on!"

* * *

_At the Principia_

Reyna and Lucas rose from their seats as soon as everyone was gathered at the Principia.

"Good afternoon, campers. We have called you all here today because Lupa has given us _this,_" Reyna lifted a scroll. "It has the names of the legionnaires who were chosen by the gods to travel to Camp Half-Blood, the _Greek_ camp, tomorrow morning."

Whispers and murmurs took over the room. _Who would be the few?_ everyone wondered.

"_Silence_!" Lucas yelled, "Your _praetor_ is talking. Show her some respect!"

"Thank you, Lucas," she said, smiling at her partner, as soon as everyone quieted. Sending a glare to the campers, she continued, "As I was saying, I have the list. Lucas, do you want to. . .?"

Lucas nodded and took the scroll from Reyna's hands, "If your name is called, you will get up, _calmly, _and stand beside us. I don't want to hear anyone complaining about being or not chosen, unless you wish to question the gods." He raised an eyebrow, "Does everyone understand?"

They all nodded; Lucas was _not_ someone to mess. With his military cut light brown hair, pale skin, brown eyes and slim figure, he might not seem anything big. But if he wasn't, he wouldn't have been elected _praetor_.

"Alright then," he cleared his throat and started reading:

"_Johanna Keys_; _Daniel Seuss_; _Christie Rose_; _Mariah Clare_; _William Dornes_; _Marina Meters_ and _Rodrigo Banter_ from the First Cohort.

_Andromeda River_; _Beatrice Tolent_; _Henry Rune_; _John Davis; Y__asmin Lee_; _Caroline Spinnet_; _Phillip Roman_ and _Nicholas Collins_ from the Second Cohort.

_Yan Black_; _Christopher Sitama_; _Layla Barret_; _Andrea Olive_; _Marlon Lutz_ and _Michael Veela_ from the Third Cohort.

_Victor Hugh;_ _Aiden Diaz;_ _Gabriel Caesar_; _Brianna Aravilo_; _Carrie Bernards_ and _Anny Rebus_ from the Fourth Cohort.

_Julius Junior_; _Brenda Snow_; _Stephanie Knight_; _Patricia Condie_; _Matthew Alwind_; _Jason Grace_ and _Arthur Rodrick_ from the Fifth Cohort."

Jason's heart stopped as he heard his name called. A few of the other members of his Cohort gave him and the other leaving demigods sympathetic looks, but he found them about as useless as a pen without ink. In other words, pretty damn useless.

He couldn't believe his luck. Out of all the people in the Fifth Cohort—and there were a _lot _of people—_he _had to be one of the ones who went to that… _Greek _camp. Oh yeah, and on top of that, he was supposedly the 'prophecy kid' that was going to end up getting his stupid soul reaped in like a year. Who could forget that _little _fact.

Jason wasn't sure if he was proud or scared senseless that he was one of the thirty-three legionnaires that stood beside the two praetors. He looked at the other thirty-two; they all looked proud to be going to the other camp, even little thirteen year old Stephanie. As much as it made him feel like a coward, he had no idea why, though. Everyone thought of the Greeks as weaklings, but were they really? If he had been chosen, Jason knew he would have looked more worried than glad. They were about to enter Greek territory, where the Greeks were most powerful. Who would be honored about possibly being _slaughtered_?

"We know you'll represent us well. We don't doubt the gods' decisions," Reyna told the chosen ones.

"We are fighters. You'll fight for us Romans, I don't want no one being a coward, you'll stand up to those Greeks and if necessary, you'll beat them to a pulp," Lucas roared, looking almost happy at the thought of beating up the Greeks.

"Which we hope _won't_ be necessary," Reyna said, giving Lucas a stern glance, "since you'll be in _their_ territory and _they'll_ have advantage."

_Well_, Jason thought, with a slight grimace,_ at least _someone_ agrees with me._

"You'll leave tomorrow morning, good luck. The Twelfth Legion Fulminata believes in you."

* * *

_Times Square_

Rachel had been standing there for about an hour, the sun smearing all her paint, when a boy painted silver finally came to take her place. She sighed as she unfroze from her pose,

"Took you long enough, Zach. I was starting to think I'd be here all day. Well, good luck staying there. Um.. you might wanna change position, your arms will hurt after a while. Maybe lay down or something? Anyway, see you next week!"

The boy only blinked and Rachel had to roll her eyes at that and smile as she walked towards the Mariott Marquis. These people took things _way_ too seriously, but she couldn't even say anything cause she did too. Art was her thing, the only way she could express herself. Sure, standing in the middle of Times Square wasn't exactly her type of art - and boy was it _tiring_ - but it was for a good cause, so it was all worth it. Though she was _exhausted_, all she wanted was to go home and relax, which in her case meant laying down on her bed and listening to some Nirvana with her iPod at it's loudest. Well, after she took off all this gold, of course.

She heard someone call her name and turned, shocked, "_Annabeth_?"

"Um, hi, Rachel," Annabeth said, nervously, "could we talk?"

Rachel blinked, "Uh, sure. Let me just change and we'll go grab some coffee."

* * *

_Camp Half-Blood_

After saying goodbye and wishing luck to those who were leaving, the campers went back to their daily routine. Or at least tried to. The Romans would arrive at around lunch time and their '_visit_' was leaving everyone apprehensive.

At 1:30 pm, Chiron gathered the remaining campers and led them to Half-Blood Hill, where they waited near Thalia's Pine for the Romans, who would be arriving at any minute.

As soon as they saw them, most campers took a step back. The Roman demigods were certainly. . . _scary_. They weren't big, but they definitely had something in them that made most demigods question if the gods' decision was really a good idea. They seemed determined and very _warlike_.

Chiron smiled and galloped to the front, "Ah, our Roman friends. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood." The Romans raised their eyebrows, but said nothing, "I'm Chiron. Please, come."

They passed shooting dirty looks at the Greeks, who stepped back.

A dark-skinned girl with short black hair snorted, "What a bunch of babies. Look,

Yan," she called to a very tall boy, "they're scared of us!"

Yan smirked and yelled, "Boo!" making a younger girl jump and hide behind Miranda Gardiner.

Jason glared at the two and mouthed for them to be nice, but it didn't do any good. They were from 'nicer' Cohorts. They wouldn't listen to him, even if he was now the prophecy child and a son of Jupiter.

"Wow, this camp is _so_ worse than Camp Jupiter, Brenda," said another girl.

"Right?" Brenda laughed, "Look at that climbing wall, I bet even _you_ could take that, Steph."

"Senior counselors, I'll expect each of you to give the Romans in your cabins a tour of the camp," Chiron continued, ignoring the Romans' remarks. He turned to the Romans and said, "Make yourselves at home."

"Yo, centaur, dude!" a big boy called. "How can we make ourselves at homes if we don't even know where we put our things?"

"Lupa has told me that in Camp Jupiter, you are divided by Cohorts. Here, we do things differently," Chiron explained. "You'll be divided by your godly parents, or - if you are a legacy - who you descend from."

A Roman camper laughed, "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Dividing campers by their godly parent, what a joke!"

Chiron let it pass, but apparently Clarisse had had enough, "Listen here you filthy

Roman, if you don't like the way this place is run, then you can get out. Leave! None of us _want_ you here anyway!"

"And who says I wanna _be_ here? I didn't choose, I was forced to come to this _stupid_ camp."

Jason looked around and caught the eye of a blonde girl from the First Cohort, who looked kind of uneasy with all the fighting. He gave her a look, she was from the 'best' Cohort, maybe she could do something,

"Julius, come on," said a blonde girl, "leave your fighting for some other time. Reyna said if _necessary_!"

"I don't _care_, Johanna!"

"Then since you were forced, stay out of our way and mind your own business!" Clarisse exclaimed, "Roman bi—!"

"Clarisse—"

"Stay _out_ of this, Beckendorf!"

"I don't usually hit girls," the boy said, "but for you, I'll make an exception. In name of my father!"

"Who's your father? God of weak?"

"For your information, it's _Mars,_" The boy grinned when he saw the surprised look on Clarisse's face.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be _kidding_ me!"

"Why? You _scared_, Greek?"

Clarisse sneered at the boy. "A daughter of Ares is never scared, _half-brother_," she said the last word with disgust and then laughed when she saw the Roman's shocked face.

* * *

_At Olympus_

Hephaestus turned off Hephaestus TV and sighed, sitting back down on his throne. The gods all shook their heads and turned to Zeus, who closed his eyes and said what everyone was thinking,

"This is a disaster."

* * *

**A disaster indeed. We hope you liked it, if not, well. . . *looks around and points to random person* It's his fault! Or we can just blame it on Max, cause she's the youngest. And the younger ones are _always_ at fault, *nods*.**

**Until next week!**

**~ Gigi**


	4. Chapter Three: Of Pranks and Praetors

**_Do As They Do_**

**_xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, bookluva98, Eleos, larkgrace, musiclover99, bubble drizzles_**

* * *

_Chapter 3_

_bookluva98, bubble drizzles, Eleos, larkgrace_

* * *

**Hi. Callie (larkgrace) again. No witty A/N's today, since this wasn't even my chapter, but Janae never really got around to finishing it so we all kind of chipped in. And now it needs a disclaimer. **

**We still don't own Percy Jackson. Sorry, Uncle Rick. And I put them all in the wrong boxes when I was done playing. MUAHAHA.**_  
_

**...ahem. Read on.  
**

* * *

******Playlist l **"The Mixed Tape" - Jack's Mannequin; "Past Praying For" - VersaEmerge

* * *

_Camp Half Blood_

"Lemme at him—dammit Gardiner, _let me at him!_"

That was, of course, how most mornings at camp started these days.

Rubbing his head, somewhat wearily, Jason sat up and yawned. He was still unused to the semi-drastic time change from California, but figured it wouldn't do any good to complain about it, as some of his Roman kin had done.

"Jason, wake up you lazy idiot!" a voice barked. "There's"—his voice, now recognizable as Arthur, from the same cohort as he was, changed into one of disgust—"a 'sing-a-long' tonight, apparently, so try to at least be there, _prophecy child._"

Jason ignored him and instead made to lie back down on his bed, rolling over onto his stomach, his head completely sunken into the lumpy pillow. He couldn't exactly breath, per say, but it was a whole lot better than having to hear the shouts of angry campers and orders to wake up from friends.

"Mermph," he groaned, trying to stay awake and as coherent as possible.

After (what he assumed was) several minutes, he forced himself to get dressed and washed up.

He was a prophecy child, he reminded himself, so he had better start acting the part of one.

* * *

_Camp Jupiter_

Travis Stoll groaned when he heard the rest of the Fifth Cohort getting up. Was it like this every morning? He didn't even think the sun had been up for long.

Rolling to his side, he opened his eyes and glanced at the alarm clock resting beside his bed - and not a very _comfortable_ bed, at that. Yup, he was right. 6:30 am; fan_-freakin-_tastic.

He wasn't sure if this was their normal schedule, or if they were just doing it to punish the - what was that word they called them, again? - ah, _graecus_.

Travis was normally a very friendly person. Sure, he pulled pranks all the time, but a little fun never hurt anyone, right? He was friends with pretty much all the campers back at Camp Half-Blood, except for maybe Katie Gardner, but even _she_ wasn't as bad as the Romans. She didn't openly despise him. Not most of the time, anyway.

So when he heard Chiron calling his name, he didn't really panic. Hades, he even felt _excited_ about it!

He always made friends easily, why would this time be any different? What could _possibly_ go wrong?

Oh, how he was mistaken.

_Everything_ could go wrong; everything _was_ going wrong.

* * *

_Camp Half Blood_

"C'mon, Christie, _please_ just listen to Chiron for a second; he knows what he talking about, you know!"

"You can't be serious," she said, outraged. "Have you seen them? Such savages. You can't expect me to be _civil_ towards them!"

Jason sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Okay,_ he thought to himself, _her response was hardly surprising._

"Can you just…give them one chance?" (pleading)

"No." (stubbornly)

He shot her a look. "Fine then, Christie Rose. Just ... fine."

She looked at him and closed her eyes in what seemed to be frustration. "Stop looking like I killed your puppy, Grace. What side are you on, anyway?" She bit her lip. "But for what it's worth: I'm sorry."

He paused for a little longer than what was comfortable before saying, "Okay."

"You know, Jason, you can't pretend to be on both sides. You just can't. Choose." Christie stuffed her hands in her skirt's pockets and announced in a small voice to him. "For everyone else, if not for you."

And then she turned and left, disappearing like she had come, quietly and quickly.

Jason sat, with a single thought in his mind.

_Choose._

* * *

_Camp Jupiter_

Reyna looked up as she felt a pair of hands touch her shoulder lightly. She smiled when she saw the most beautiful brown eyes in the world staring at her with so much emotion, and care, and _affection_.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asked, plopping down on the seat next to her. She simply nodded and closed her eyes, she didn't feel much like talking right now. He cupped her face gently, making her turn to him, "I'm here for you, you know that don't you? You know that you can tell me anything and I won't ever judge you?"

She sighed, "I know. It's just the whole thing with the Greeks has been so stressful. And they got here _yesterday_!"

He chuckled lightly and gave her a soft peck on the lips, "We'll work it out. I know we will. You have me, don't you?"

"I guess," she said, small smile forming on her lips, "I'm glad I have you."

He kissed her again, deeper this time, and put a hand on her waist, bringing her closer to him, while she ran her hands through his military-cut light brown hair.

So caught up in their kiss, they barely noticed the darkheaded girl walking up to them, until she said:

"Reyna, Lucas, we have a pro- Oh-" the girl's eyes widened, while Reyna and Lucas separated from their kiss and became suddenly very red. "I-I'm sorry," the girl apologized, "I-I didn't mean to- I didn't know-"

"Ah, w-we were just, uh," Reyna stammered, "We were j-just... uh, working."

"I see..."

"Yeah, what were you saying, Alice?" Lucas asked, looking a lot less tense than his fellow Praetor.

"Just that we have a problem. Andrew Tabbot, from the First Cohort, lit a Greek's clothes on fire."

"Oh, that _is_ a problem," Lucas noted. "We'll take care of it right away."

"Alright," Alice looked a bit uncomfortable. "Again, I'm sorry for... you know."

"It's fine."

The girl left quickly, hoping to avoid any more sightings.

Lucas grabbed Reyna's hand as they both got up. "Let's deal with this, shall we?"

She nodded and smiled, but dropped his hand when they got to the doors of the _principia_.

"What's wrong?" he asked, grabbing her hand once again.

She quickly let go. "Nothing, it's just..."

"Oh," Lucas said, after a moment of silence, "I get it."

"No, Lucas, it's not what you think-"

"Then what is it?"

"I-" she sighed, "I don't think I'm ready to go public yet."

Lucas nodded. "And here I thought we had something. Silly me."

"No, you don't understand-"

"I do understand, Reyna, I do," he ran his hand through his hair. "If you didn't want to be with me, why didn't you just say so?"

"Lucas, it's not like that!"

"_Of course_ it's like that! If you just wanted to be my... kissing buddy, or whatever it is that we are, you should have just told me."

"I don't wanna be just your kissing buddy!"

"Then what _do_ you wanna be?" he asked.

"I- I-" she sighed and shook her head, "I don't know."

"Well, let's just be two Praetors - _co-workers_ - until you do," and Reyna shivered at the icy tone in his voice.

* * *

_Camp Half Blood_

Connor Stoll didn't like punching people much.

Okay, no, that would be a complete and utter lie. Connor Stoll _loved_ punching people, especially the ones who really deserved it.

Like now, when there was that idiot, Henry Rune, who went up to him at just past three in the afternoon, after trying (and failing) to pick a fight with poor Castor, who didn't seem to have a clue what to do without Pollux.

Sneering and scoffing at every single _"graecus"_ that he saw with that overly cocky strut of his, Connor didn't have a problem insulting him back.

That is, until the Roman's face had reddened considerably before he threw out his fist, hitting Connor's jaw.

"Are you a _coward_?" he spat at the slightly bleeding boy. "Or are you just too stupid to throw a punch?"

His weak insults did nothing to Connor's smooth exterior, and the boy only grinned, chuckling.

"Filthy, stinking—"

No, Connor wasn't the kind of person who enjoyed punching people much, but he did occasionally find the littlest amount of fun in getting revenge on people who, he dubbed, "the assholes of the world."

So that's why, at the moment before Henry would finish his sentence with the only insult he knew, when Connor was tired of hearing "_graecus_ this, _graecus_ that" he threw a punch and hit the rotten jerk in the jaw, because he deserved it and that was a good enough reason to him.

Because Connor didn't have to be a peacemaker or a diplomat, he wasn't a prophecy child or a whiny Roman, he was just Connor and he was sure that Connor Stoll liked to punch jerks.

* * *

_Camp Jupiter_

"I will not _tolerate_ this!" Travis heard Katie shout, and turned to see what was going on.

Katie was holding up a burnt Camp Half-Blood shirt and looked more furious than ever. The girl she was talking to - Travis recognized her as Ally Vesta, from the Hephaestus cabin - had messy brown hair and dark brown eyes and seemed to be giving Katie a sympathetic look.

Despite not knowing what had happened, Travis knew that sympathy wasn't going to work on Katie right now. Her face was dark red - a shade of the color he had never seen on her before, and he had seen a _lot_ of shades of red on Katie's face over the years - and her eyes looks murderous even from a distance. Her fists were curled and he could see her knuckles were white, he could hear her heavy breathing even from three beds away.

All of that could only mean one thing: someone had managed to piss her off, more than he ever did.

"Katie, breathe," Ally told her. "It was probably a misunderstanding."

"_Misunderstanding_?" Katie cried. "There's nothing to be misunderstood here, Ally! They lit Samuel's shirt on _fire_! He's in the infirmary! Gods, he's only twelve!"

"When you were twelve, you could fend for yourself, Kates."

Katie sighed and sat down on the nearest bed. "I know, he's not a baby. But he's my little half-brother, Ally. I can't let them do this to him!"

"I know. Just calm down for a while, alright?" she said, while exiting the room, "It'll all be ok, Katie. Trust me."

Travis walked over and sat down next to her on the bed, his eyes full of concern, "Hey, what happened, Katie?"

Katie looked at him, she was so tired she didn't even have the strength to glare, "Not in the mood, Stoll. Go bug someone else."

"Well, I didn't come here to bug you. I'm shocked you would even suggest such a thing," he mocked.

Katie grinned, "Thanks for making me laugh."

"No problem," he shrugged. "So, are you gonna tell me what happened?"

She sighed and told him the whole story. When she finished, the only thing Travis said was, "Wow."

"I know. These Romans really are something..."

"Yeah, they got you angrier than you ever were with me."

"Well, your pranks were harmless. This could have killed Sam."

"If my pranks were harmless, why do you hate me so much?"

Katie looked taken aback, "Hate you? Gods, Stoll, I never _hated_ you!"

Travis frowned, "Then why were you always yelling at me?"

"'Cause you never seemed to leave me alone, I was always a target of you and Connor's pranks."

He laughed, "You were.. Gods, that was such a long time ago... I was such a stupid little kid..."

Katie looked at him, disbelief evident on her face. "Travis, the last time you pranked me was _right before we came to Camp Jupiter_."

"Oh yeah," he said, a sheepish grin on his face.

An idea suddenly hit Katie. "Travis," she asked, "how would you feel about using your pranks for a good cause?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

* * *

_Camp Half Blood_

Despite popular belief, Lacey knew how to throw a punch. Sure, she liked fashion and clothes and talking to friends about cute boys, but she wasn't completely useless.

Like, for instance, when the Venus kids laughed and pushed her around, calling her names and insulting her heritage, the younger girl didn't mind kicking their shins or punching them in the stomach.

That earned her a small "reputation." Now, instead of the fun-to-pick-on Aphrodite idiot, she was "the crazy one," the girl who spazzed out and went mad at a pin drop.

Truthfully, she didn't care about either of those opinions of her. She really didn't.

Lacey bit her lip. Okay, well, she only cared _a little. _Honest.

To Hades with it; she cared _a lot._

But she wouldn't let them see that, never, because if the Romans were always like what she'd seen for the past few days, she knew she'd never befriend them anyway.

* * *

_Camp Jupiter_

Malcom liked to think of himself as a pacifist - being a demigod and all, it was pretty hard to be non-violent. Whatever. He still avoided violence at whatever means necessary.

The Romans, however, changed his view on many, _many _things. Including violence.

Despite being the cabin of one of the _war _gods, Athena wasn't big on fighting-at least, without provocation. Most of the time. They'd all lost their tempers at one point or another. Annabeth had been bad about that, especially when she was younger. He smiled fondly when he remembered his "little big sister" flipping out on Clarisse after the daughter of Ares tried to give P—er, He Who Must Not Be Named—a swirly.

Thinking about The Unnamed One and his little sister and how _empty _she was now that he was gone-not-to-be-mentioned-again made Malcolm irritable. So he felt absolutely no regret when he gave that Roman asshole who _dared _mock their "wimp of a prophecy child" exactly what she deserved. Which, in a fit of rage, happened to be a foot in the kidney.

Okay, maybe he was a little violent.

* * *

_Camp Half Blood_

Jason Grace stood in the Zeus Cabin, and stared around for what must have been the fiftieth time. He just could not wrap his head around the fact that there were Greeks, and that they did everything different than the way he was raised. Something about this place just gave him chills – especially the picture he found that had three smiling faces frozen in time. He just couldn't help but think that there was something that he should remember—

That, of course, is when the screaming interrupted.

"I cannot believe him!" screamed Clarisse la Rue, who was huddled around the rest of her cabin. "The nerve of him! I swear, when I get my hands on him—"

"What is going on, Clarisse?" Chiron asked, who was supposed to be teaching a class but was otherwise occupied by all the Greek-Roman rivalries.

"William Dornes has disgraced the name of Mars and Ares! That little Roman punk! Gods! Writing 'Mars is better than Ares' and 'Roman all the way' on my cabin walls like a da—"

"Clarisse." Chiron silenced the daughter of Ares with a look. "Shall I take care of this or can I trust you to handle it yourself?"

Clarisse muttered something under her breath—words included _stupid, Roman(s),_and possibly _revenge_—but Chiron thought that she _would_ do well to handle it herself.

* * *

_Camp Jupiter_

Reyna Archer scowled. After she sorted the Greeks into the Fifth Cohort—it still was seen as the worst of all, and so it was chosen to be tainted with _Graecus _presence—Reyna went to discuss the situation with the other preator, Lucas Greene. "I hope the gods know what they're doing," Lucas said after they heard the first complaint.

So far, a daughter of Aphrodite—her brain wanted to say _Venus_, but that would be _politically incorrect_—whose name could not be traced, apparently, managed to piss off most of the Third Cohort. Dakota Brillo claimed that the children of Hephestus were kicked out of the forges and demanded fair treatment. "They said it wasn't right," Dakota had claimed. "Or somethin'." He chugged his red Kool-Aid—although Reyna thought the substance looked suspicously like red wine—and then went back to doing whatever it is Dakota did.

The First Cohort did nothing to dispute the spark or mend the hurt that the _Graecus _felt—being the best cohort, it should have been expected, but somehow it wasn't. In fact, they made matters worse. Even though the Greeks had only been at the Roman camp for a week, they had been ridiculed, degraded, downsized, and treated unfairly. They endured, however, with thoughts of loved ones, prophecies, Titans, and Perseus Jackson.

Reyna believed that she had received a total of—at least—twenty complaints since the _Graecus _had arrived. Lucas, of course, was the more calm and tranquil of the two, so he proposed that they just "wait and see".

Reyna was a daughter of battle, born and bred, so she almost didn't want to see the sense in "waiting and seeing". However, she understood the situation and agreed.

* * *

_Camp Half-Blood_

The camp sing-along that night is rather bleak, morbid, and horrid. There was an obvious barrier between the Greeks and the Romans—the Romans sat on one side of the fire, and the Greeks on the other. They talked in low, hushed tones; the Greeks making an attempt to appear happy and the Romans rather stoic. The fire, at a glance, was somewhere between low, flickering fames and dim embers.

Dionysus, the god of wine, appeared rather cheerful compared to the crowd around him—which, as one could plainly see, was an odd thing. "Now, kiddies," Dionysus said sarcastically, "don't all talk at once." And then he laughed—loud and harsh—but no one laughed with him.

Chiron stepped up, sympathetic. "I understand that there are certain barriers between the children of the Greek gods and the descendants of the Roman. We are all here to breaks those barriers and conquer any future hate and replace it with tranquility and acceptance. Therefore, I propose that the next Capture the Flag match be the Romans against the Greeks."


	5. Chapter Four: In Which We Capture

**_Do As They Do_**

**_By: _****_xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, musiclover99, bubble drizzles, _****_Eleos, larkgrace, it'salloxymorons, livingondaydreams_**

**AN: So... we seem to have a lack of Emily, Gigi, Max, Janae, and Kelly. Meaning? Only Callie and I have been on frequently. So, this is Lex, posting the chapter.**

**A lot of you are wondering why Chiron would let the Greeks and Romans have at each other... I've got two words for you: Reverse psychology.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter! (And ignore the playlist. No one is really on today, and I wanted to post this chapter. The single song we have is (presumably) what Emily listened to when writing this. **

**Disclaimer: We don't own PJO/HoO. **

* * *

_Chapter Four: In Which We Capture More Than Just Flags  
__by Eleos_

* * *

**PLAYLIST**| "Here is a Heart" - Jenny Owen Youngs

* * *

_2 o'clock in the afternoon; Big House_

Rory Markham was not a very strict person, so to speak. He was a fairly bookish person and was easy to talk with. He had a certain air of superiority to him, because of his extensive knowledge on pretty much every subject known to man. Except battle strategy, that is.

It wasn't as if Rory was _horrible_ at battle strategy, because he wasn't (_he was quite good at it_, he'd reply huffily when anyone questioned him about it). He was just, well, average. And everyone knows children of Athena are anything _but_ average, so Rory and his less-than-perfect battle strategies faded into the background, leaving people to scoff at him much more than what was considered "polite."

That being said, it was obvious when Chiron had briskly walked (or maybe it was more like trotted) up to him and announced that he was the captain for the camp's Capture the Flag game and to "get your team together and plan. Game's at two-thirty. Good luck," without so much as a reassuring smile or a parting wave, Rory was surprised.

Numbly (and stupidly, Rory thought), he nodded at Chiron's retreating figure and said a dull "okay, sure" in response. "I'll just go get the whole camp, then, and pray they listen to me. Thanks a whole lot."

_Fifteen past two; Outside the Athena Cabin_

"Clarisse, listen to me, we need to set up flanks of campers along the northernmost side of—"

"I don't know what the Hades you're on about, Markham, we'll be fi—"

Suddenly, a shrill wail interrupted their heated debates, coming from a younger camper, maybe about nine, with a tear-streaked face. The room was enveloped in silence for only a moment and then:

"What the Hades was that—!"

"People, _please_ shut the younger campers up—sorry Maisie—and tell her there's nothing to be scared of," shouted some Hermes kid, "for the sake of my eardrums, if not for any other reason!"

"C'mon, _strategy_," Rory stressed, banging his fist on the table, "we need at least a plan A and B to run off of"—he shot Clarisse a look—"and no, we cannot 'wing it,' okay?"

A few campers glanced at Rory, annoyed.

"Yes?" he said curtly, narrowing his eyes and looking towards them expectantly.

Under his questioning stare one blurted out, "Well, you're not Annabeth," with a hint of a blush creeping up her neck.

"Yeah, I can see that, too," he drawled, unamused. "Now can we _please_ talk battle strategy?" Rory paused. "Plus, if we don't, the Romans will crush us and you will be ashamed. Even Clarisse," he added at her smug grin.

Campers were in varying states of agreement, some like Clarisse, grumbling and glaring, and others, like a particularly chipper Miranda Gardiner, who was wholeheartedly going along with the plan and encouraging others to listen. Not surprisingly, most were acting like the former, except with a lot more shouting and a lot less silent brooding (_just my luck,_ he mused, thinking about how _dead-wrong_ Chiron was to pick someone like him to be a leader instead of a natural-born one like the Ares kids).

"Alright, alright," Rory announced rather loudly, knowing no one would hear him if he didn't yell. "Listen up, okay?"

He glared at some noisy Apollo kids who were fooling around with medical tape and arrows ("It was in order to make a super arrow, sir!" the Apollo kid had said, laughing) and cleared his throat.

"You all want to beat the Romans, right?" he asked, sounding more confident than he felt.

"Well no Styx, Sherlock," a Hephaestus camper shouted, "you don't need to _ask_ us!"

Rory let out a chuckle, "Right answer. _But_," he took a breath, preparing to make a speech, "we need to actually plan if we want to win. We need to—"

"We _get it_," an Ares camper called out, "we know! Fine, we'll plan, then." ("I don't want to have to sit through _another_ speech," the kid grumbled under his breath.)

Rory grinned. "Perfect."

* * *

_Two o' clock in the afternoon; behind the Big House_

"Jason it is, isn't it?" a male voice asked, not at all sounding uncertain, but stricter than he had expected.

"That's me," he replied, his lips quirking into a tight grin to greet the centaur.

"Today is the Capture the Flag game," he informed. "I trust you know the rules?"

Jason nodded. "Yeah, the basics, every kid does."

Chiron smiled at Jason, but it appeared more forced than friendly (Jason pretended not to notice). "Yes, I suppose so, Jason. Anyway, I wanted to let you that you will be the captain of your team, which is, in this case, your fellow Roman campers. Prepare well"—he paused, eyes narrowing slightly, losing its pleasant sparkle, if only for a mere second,—"Mr. Grace."

Unperturbed at Chiron's slight animosity, Jason nodded once more. "Yes," he said, even though Chiron was gone. "Fun."

_Two-fifteen; the strawberry fields_

"Jay-son!" a teenager chastised, elongating his name lazily. "We need to plan, stop thinking about how to win the war and Tiber. Baby steps, dude."

"Yeah, yeah," Jason snapped back automatically, "sure. One minute."

"Stop freaking out, seriously, you'll get killed that way."

"Hah hah, you're too funny, John."

"Really, though," the boy, John, insisted, "we should plan. Damn Greeks have an advantage, they know this place like the palm of their dirty hands, we should at least scout and figure out positions. Enjoy yourself, man. This will be easy."

Jason waved his eagerness off and shot his friend a curious glance, "You're really excited for this? _Really?_ I'm not so sure about this camp, doesn't something seem … fishy? I mean, their prophecy kid—Jupiter forbid we talk about him—is all famous and everyone loves him even though he's _missing_. Isn't that weird?"

John shook his head, "I didn't really notice it, Jay."

"Don't call me that."

John poked him. "Jay. Jay. Jay. Jayjayjayjay."

"You're doing this to get me to plan, aren't you?"

"Well—yes."

"Fine, let's scout, then."

_"Perfect."_

* * *

_Twenty nine minutes after two o' clock; Zeus' Fist_

"Hurry, hurry, _hurry_," hissed someone—Rory didn't turn around to see the him or her—hurriedly. "Faster! Gods, Rory, we have _one_ minute, Styx, _thirty freaking seconds!_"

"Done," Rory breathed. "Happy?"

"Extremely," the kid (it turned out to be one of the questioning kids—a Hephaestus, maybe) said, glaring. "Now get out of here, we can't let them see us, it'll give it away." She looked over at him again, "And would it kill you to run a little faster, Rory?" she tutted.

"Oh, sorry mom," he exclaimed sarcastically, "and plus, I'm the captain here. Get into position, Andi, Jefferson and Johnson are waiting for you. You're part of the team, so start acting like it."

She glared back at him and walked away angrily, calling back a scathing "Fine, _sir_."

"Women," Rory muttered under his breath, "what is with them?"

Shaking his head, he ran off to his defensive position by the back of the fist, trying to clear his head whilst and adjusting the armor on his shoulders.

He looked at his wristwatch and saw it read _2:31_, its red light casting an eerie glow on the rock pile. In the background, he heard a faint horn being blown, signaling the beginning of their game.

And on his mind, he'd be lying if he said he was only thinking about Capture the Flag.

_Two-twenty nine; I have no clue where I am_

"Where are we again, o' wise leader Jason? Are we lost? Who could've been so idiotic to get lost in a tiny _camp_?" John frowned in mock-thought. "Oh yes, you."

"Whose idea was it to scout before the game, _John_?" Jason retorted, miming his facial expressions. "Oh yes, _you_."

"Touché, my friend," John rolled his eyes.

"What's the time?" Jason asked, subtly changing the subject.

"Where are we?" his annoying scouting partner asked in return. (Or not so subtly, Jason figured.)

"I'm not answering that," he said. "Now the time."

"Two twenty-nine on the dot, sir!" he said, straightening his posture. "Is that good for you?"

"Yeah, yeah, alright." Jason stopped walking suddenly, causing his friend to barrel into him. "Perfection! Right over there!" he squinted into the distance, pointing. "See that? Perfection?"

"Oy," the other smirked, "looking at a pretty lady?"

"Shut up, you dolt, I'm talking about a spot for our flag, try not to have such a one-track mind, you hormonal loser."

A horn blared, sounding like it were right next to Jason's ear, most likely to show the game was beginning.

Placing the flag in the ground quickly, Jason was not left with any time to admire his, rather clever if he could say so himself, handiwork (it was a nice area surrounded by trees, easy to spot, but only if you knew where it was), before he ran off to the nearest tree, flying up into the branches, waiting.

And he'd be lying if winning were the only thing on his mind—because, oh, there was so much more.

* * *

_Two thirty-seven; not in the creek_

Rory thought he was going to die.

Well, okay, no. He wasn't seriously contemplating death or anything—he wasn't even injured, really—but he sure felt gods-damn-awful.

He'd taken a nasty spear to the helmet and must've fallen down at least fifteen times. And to add on to that, Rory was mad.

He wasn't supposed to be out on offense, he'd told that girl—Andi—who had come running back to him, shouting that "he needed to be out on offense" and to "stop being such a pansy." Needless to say, Andi and him weren't on such great terms after some of the nouns he'd used.

But he still followed her less-than-nice orders.

So there he was, slightly worse for wear and bruised in places he never had thought bruising was possible. (At least he could say it was a _learning experience, _right?)

Mumbling some rather…creative…sentences under his breath as he ran towards what looked like an empty clearing, Rory was suddenly ambushed by two Roman boys. One face was familiar, but _pardon him_ if a name didn't happen to come to mind when someone was trying to stab him, and was working very ardently at it, too.

A collection of jumbled syllables and swear words came tumbling out of his mouth as he struggled to pull his sword out of his belt.

Someone laughed, the unfamiliar person, and lunged at him, still smirking. Rory took an immediate disliking to this one. The Roman kicked Rory in his shin, which was, unfortunately, unprotected. Rory groaned in pain, crumpling to the ground.

"Look at that, a lousy _graecus_! Gods, it's like they aren't even putting up a fight!"

Rory gritted his teeth, glaring at the boy. He rose slowly, biting the inside of his cheek to try to ignore the intense pain that was his shin. "Shut up," he growled.

"What was that, ickle Greek-y…" he let the sentence trail off. "What your name again? I want to know before I beat you up, it's polite, not that some _graecus_ like you would know."

"Rory," he spat, "my name's Rory."

And then, somewhat dramatically, he punched the boy in the jaw.

There was nearly a minute of excruciating silence before it shattered with a few cuss words that did not belong to Rory's vocabulary.

"What the Pluto, dude?"

Rory wiped blood off his mouth; the Roman had hit him back, but it was not nearly as effective as the punch Rory had used first.

"Think Greeks are so weak now, huh?" he taunted. "D'you think we're so defenseless?"—he watched as the boy, John he learned his name was via the panicking of his friend, look up at him, hatred in his eyes—"Because we're not."

He stalked foward, angrily and not really satisfied. "Sorry," he called back over his shoulder, sarcastic and not one bit remorseful.

()_()_()_()_

"That was wrong, you know," a voice said, startling him out of his reverie. "You shouldn't have punched him like that. You're being just as bad as them."

He turned to the female voice. "Andi? Again? Can you take a hint? I really don't want to talk. There's a game to win, you know. We're not all pacifists like, oh, I don't know, _you._"

She sniffed indignantly, "I didn't say I was a pacifist, nor did I say I didn't want to win this game. You're mangling my words of advice."

He decided to ignore her and continued trudging through the tall grass, blocking out her and her annoying advice.

"Stop," he heard her saying, some of Andi's words breaking through his barrier of hands covering his ears. "So…immature. Hate. Listen. Are—you—even—?"

He cut her off. "Oh my gods…would you look at that." He was gaping at the flag, the one thing that he could capture and bring back to the boundary line and potentially become announced as a hero. He grabbed it hungrily and took Andi's had in his, shouting "Let's go!"

So hoisting the flag on his shoulder, with their hands still interlocked and their weapons out, they ran.

* * *

_Three o' seven p.m.; running_

Shouting, that was all Rory could hear. Angry screams, yes. Supportive cheering; that too. However, there was something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on …

"Rory! Are you an _idiot_? You're going to run into that tree, moron!"

Oh yes, and then there was Andi. Loud, obnoxious and annoying Andi.

"Why hello there, back-seat driver," he said dryly as they ran. He took a breath, panting slightly. "I hadn't seen you there."

He assumed she rolled her eyes at that moment, because she managed to remain silent for few seconds.

"Shut up." She looked around and suddenly side-stepped to her left, thrusting out her sword and knocking back a Roman with the butt of her bronze weapon. "And _run faster_. Like, really, what are you? A chubby two-year-old?"

He shot her a dirty look and sped up his pace, breathing even more shallowly. "Are you"—pant—"even"—another pant—"on my _team_?"

"Shut up," she repeated. "And I swear, if you don't win I'll …"

"Kill me? Yes, good. Fine."

She smirked. "Perfect. And _run._"

And boy, did Rory run.

* * *

_Five-ten, the evening; sitting outside Athena Cabin_

"Are you sure you don't want to come in, Rory?" his cabin-mate asked, waggling the bottle of suspicious fluid in front of his face. "It'll be fun, guaranteed."

"Nah, I'm fine," at the disbelieving face of Rudy, his sibling, he added, "_really,_ I am. I swear. Scout's honor. Pinky promise. Cross my heart, hope to die and all that."

"Oh, alright-y then," she sighed. "Good job out there, Rory. I'm happy you were the one to get the flag; imagine if it were someone like"—her voice lowered considerably—"_Clarisse_."

Rory laughed, "I can imagine."

He closed his eyes and leaned back, the steps creaking under his weight. "Now go inside, Rude, enjoy yourself, it's not every day Chiron'll let the kids drink whatever Connor managed to smuggle into camp, right?"

Now it was her turn to laugh. "Yeah," she answered, "I suppose I should get going, Connor's acting stupid, pretending he's drunk n' all. I'll control him, he's been a little reckless since Travis left; I guess Travis kept him in place or whatever." She stopped at the doorway. "Bye, Rory."

"Night, Rudy."

()_()_()_()_

"Uh," there was a cough, "hey."

Rory didn't open his eyes, but smiled to greet the stranger.

He felt some sit beside him on the steps, the makeshift seat sinking a little lower with an odd _creeeeeeeeeeek_. Rory turned and saw one of the boys who had ambushed him earlier; the panicky one, not the mean one.

"Hi."

"Um, sorry about earlier, I didn't…" the boy stopped talking, letting his sentence trail off uncertainly.

"No problem," Rory waved his hand casually as if to say _no biggie, dude._

"And uh, sorry about Davis—John, that is—he's always like that. A jerk, I mean. Don't take it personally."

"It's fine, really. I don't mind that much—at camp, we play games like this twice a week, we get used to it."

"Oh, okay."

They settled into an awkward silence, each not daring to speak, not wanting to break their uneasy moment of peace.

"Good job, at the game, I mean," Rory started, trying to ease into conversation, "I really didn't expect that ambush, it was clever. How did you get into those trees? The nearest branch must've been at least fifteen feet up."

"It was easy," Jason brushed off the compliment, "I'm a son Jupiter—that's your Zeus, I think—so basically, I flew." He hover-sat a few feet off the steps. "See? Simple."

"Wow. That's…cool." Rory looked up. He hesitated. "I'm sorry. For the hostility."

"It's fine," Jason assured.

"Er," Rory shifted to face Jason. "Let's start over, then, I guess. Rory Markham, child of Athena."

Jason laughed, "Jason Grace, son of Jupiter."

"Good, how nice to meet you Mr. Grace."

"Likewise, Mr. Markham."

"Say, shall we go inside and grab a bag of chips?"

"I'd love to, man."

Rory grinned. "Perfect."

* * *

**I love Rory, I really do. He's adorable, in a nerdy, kind of cute way.**

**a/n: Thank you to all of the reviewers; seriously, you made my [our] day.**

**P.S. See that song up there? It's a suggestion to read the chapter with; it's what I liked at the time of writing and what I think coexists well enough with the chapter, even if the lyrics don't have to do with the chapter, it's a nice to tune for the chapter. It's by Jenny Owens Young, if you didn't bother to google it. I don't think anyone else [the authors of this story, I mean] does this, but I like this so there.**

**Reviews are parties in the Athena cabin. Everyone want to have one. ;)**


	6. Chapter Five: My Friend Likes

**_Do As They Do_**

**_By: _****_xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, musiclover99, bubble drizzles, _****_Eleos, larkgrace, it'salloxymorons, livingondaydreams_**

**AN: Hello, there****. It's Gigi (bubble drizzles) here, though this isn't even my chapter. We kind of forgot/were too busy to post on Sunday - so sorry! -, so we're just posting now, a bit rushed actually. Since I'm not the one who wrote the chapter, and we've all been a bit busy lately, I don't really know what the planned playlist was, so no playlist today. Boo. ****  
**

**We're loving all the reviews, thank you so very much! (:**

**Disclaimer: Nope, not our story. [But we wish it was! Think of all the Percabeth we could write and - aw!]**

* * *

_My Friend Likes My Long-Lost Sister_

_By: musiclover99_

* * *

"You. Are. _So_. Dead."

Connor Stoll rubbed his neck, staring at the livid Minerva girl sheepishly.

"Oops?" he said, trying to smile. "Um, that kinda wasn't meant for _you_, but—"

The Minerva girl, Layla Barret, narrowed her eyes dangerous at the son of Hermes. Her black hair dripped, soaked in a mixture of lake water, dead fish, fish oil, and Tabasco sauce.

"You have three seconds before I murder you, Stoll," she snarled, before adding, "And I started counting at 'three!'"

With that, Connor took off running like Hades (or Pluto), screaming something along the lines of, "HELP ME!" while Layla followed closely behind.

It was a pretty average day at Camp Half-Blood. The Greeks and Romans were beginning to adapt to each other after their game of Capture of the Flag, which had happened a couple of days ago. The Greeks had earned their Roman counterparts' respect by ultimately defeating them in the game, and the Greeks had come to have a pretty grudging respect of their Roman comrades. Life seemed pretty good. For now. Nothing good lasts forever when you're a demigod, of course.

There were Romans and Greeks alike at Camp Half-Blood, and all seemed to be relatively fine. There were a few people playing volleyball, the Demeter cabin showing some Ceres kids the strawberry fields, and overall, they were somewhat _bonding_, though everyone would refuse to admit it.

Even the border patrol had Romans on guard (plus Clarisse and Matthew, from the Ares cabin).

Everything was going smoothly, peacefully even, besides a few hindrances from people like Connor. Still, there was fear in everyone's heart, because they weren't sure when the first strike was going to happen. When would they be attacked? There was no way of knowing for sure.

But, for right now, the Greek and Roman campers merely chose to live in the moment.

* * *

A Venus girl giggled, turning on her stomach, facing her siblings—Greek and Roman alike. "Ooh," she cooed, "this 'Percy Jackson' of yours sounds so… cute!"

Silena smiled slightly as the other Aphrodite girls nodded and laughed in agreement. "He's one Hades... er, Pluto, for you guys, of a looker," she admitted.

"But, he's already got someone…" She winced, deciding not to mention the fact that Percy was _gone_.

And Dionysus had made it clear that he _wasn't _coming back.

Another Roman girl, Yasmin from the Second Cohort, frowned, but leaned into to listen further. "And that person would be…"

"Annabeth Chase," Delaney, a tall, pretty(well, she _was _an Aphrodite girl) dark-skinned girl answered, flipping her curly, black back. A small smile rested on her face as she painted her toenails a bright shade of pink. "Daughter of Athena."

"Um… who's Athena again?" Carrie, from the Fourth Cohort, asked, with a sheepish smile.

"She's your Minerva," Silena explained, flipping a page in her magazine.

"Goddess of wisdom and such."

"Oh… A son of Neptu—I mean, _Poseidon_—with a daughter of Athena?" the first girl, Christie, had a confused look on her pretty face. "Don't their parents like… hate each other?" She glanced up at the sky, as if scared of angering the two gods.

Delaney waved it off dismissively. "Oh, puh-lease, like that matters. If you ask _me_, it makes for such an _interesting _love story! It's like Romeo and Juliet all over again!" With that, she sighed dreamily, and the other Aphrodite girls in the room nodded and giggled.

"Well, are they together yet?" Yasmin asked, bouncing excitedly in her seat. "When can we meet them? Oh my gods, they must be soo cute!"

The room seemed to darkened. Silena set down her magazine, a sad expression crossing her face. Delaney and her closest friends bowed their heads. Some of the Greek girls in the corner who were doing each others' makeup stopped, and the Romans all looked at their siblings, confused.

"Was it something I said?"

Silena shook her head, almost feeling numbed by the conversation. Her blue eyes held pain, not for herself, but for Annabeth. "No…" she said softly. "It's just…" Her voice trailed off.

"Percy Jackson's gone," Delaney finished in a small voice. "And he's not coming back."

* * *

"So, Rory," said Jason curiously, looking around at the cabins, "what's that cabin for?" He pointed to the fourth cabin on the goddesses' side of the 'U', and Rory's eyes gray widened.

"That's Artemis's Cabin," he said, slightly dreamily. A smile formed on his face, but Jason merely looked confused. "She's a maiden goddess, so it's mostly honorary."

"What do you mean… 'honorary'?"

Rory shrugged. "Well, she has the Hunters," he explained. Upon noticing Jason's once again puzzled expression, he further explained, "They're this band of immortal girls that travel around the country fighting monsters and stuff. They… don't come here often."

By the tone of Rory's voice, Jason could tell he wasn't particularly fond of these 'Hunters,' despite the goofy smile that had formed on his face when the son of Jupiter had first asked about them.

Deciding not to press on that thought, Jason asked, "So, where are these girls?"

"Who knows," Once again, Rory shrugged. "Haven't really seen or heard from the Hunters since Thalia joined them."

A shock went down Jason's spine. It wasn't like a literal one, but there was something—something _familiar _about that name—that made his head hurt. An image flashed through his mind; it was of a girl, probably nine or ten years old, with short, spiky black hair, electrifying blue eyes, and a splash of freckles over her nose. She smiled warmly, laughing at someone. It wasn't a mean laugh. It was more of the You're-too-funny-and-cute kind of laugh.

He felt like he knew that laugh, and that he should _know _this girl.

"—ason?" Rory's concerned voice shook him out of his little daydream, and

Jason blinked. "You okay? You turned kind of pale and just stopped."

Jason nodded slowly, the image of the girl still burning in his mind. He had _seen _that girl somewhere at camp… he just couldn't remember where. "Hey, Rory," His voice was shaky, "what was the name of the girl you mentioned again?"

Rory's brows furrowed. "Who, Lady Artemis?"

"No, no, the other one."

The son of Athena frowned slightly, then, after a moment of pondering Jason's request, his expression brightened. "Oh, Thalia?"

"Y-yeah," Jason murmured, his eyes studying Artemis's Cabin carefully. "Thalia."

"If you want to know about her, I can tell you that she's your sister," Rory offered.

Jason's head turned around so quickly that his neck popped painfully. With a grimace, he said, "What?"

"She's a daughter of Zeus," the other boy explained. "Newest Lieutenant of Artemis, I hear. Pretty headstrong, and a little mean. She's close to my sister, Annabeth, and used to be close with Lu—" He abruptly cut himself off, face darkening. "Never mind about that, you know?"

He was hiding something.

Jason's first thought was to pry whatever secret Rory had right out of him, but he shook it off, more interesting in knowing more about this 'Thalia' girl. For some reason, he couldn't help but think Thalia and the girl he'd just thought of had some kind of connection.

"What does she look like?" Jason walked forward, nearly at the porch of the Artemis Cabin. He wasn't really sure _why_, but something told him to go in there.

Rory scrambled towards him, and grabbed his arm, a frantic look on his face.

"Dude, that place is sacred to Artemis. Meaning, unless you want to be turned into a jackalope, _don't go inside_."

Jason shrugged off Rory's hand, walking up to the door. "We're demigods," he said flatly. "We're supposed to do dangerous things."

With that, he opened the door and stepped inside, noticing the very little things, like how the beds were nearly made, and how it smelled like the forest in there. A thin layer of dust lay on top of the wood, but other than that, it seemed fairly clean.

"You're going to get us in trouble," Rory called, from out on the porch.

"'Us'? You're not even in here."

"Yeah, but… still."

Jason rolled his eyes, walking up to one of the side tables. It, like everything else, was coated with dust, but was otherwise barren. He sat on the bed, frowning. Rory was right. He was in a foreign camp, entering a _maiden _goddess's cabin that was apparently off limits. Even though demigods were supposed to do dangerous things, he couldn't shake the feeling that he really should get out of here.

But, he had to find what he was looking for. What exactly he was looking for… well, that mostly remained a mystery.

"I'm telling you," Rory warned, "you're not going to enjoy being a jackalope. You'll probably get shot by one of the Hunters."

Jason ignored him once again, standing up and walking over to the desk that sat in one of the corners of the room. It was a simple wooden desk, with a simple wooden chair to go with it. Nothing seemed special about it, except that, unlike

the other furniture in the cabin, this had something on it.

It was a simple piece of paper, but, hey, it was still something.

Jason picked up the long piece of paper, blowing the dust off of it. He stared at it for a brief moment, frowning. Naturally, it just _had _to be written in intricate calligraphy, which was, in short, _death _for his dyslexic eyes. It took him staring at the paper for several moments to realize that it was a list of girls that were "possible recruits".

And there, fifth on the list, written in that beautiful but incredibly annoying handwriting, was the name Thalia Grace.

Jason's blood ran cold in his body, and he dropped the paper in shock. His entire body tensed. He _knew _that name. Thalia… The girl that was laughing came to mind again. The picture that he had found in his cabin—the one of a teenage girl with spiky black hair and very blue eyes—burned through his mind. And 'Grace'. That was _his _last name.

"_If you want to know about her, I can tell you that she's your sister," _Rory had said.

Jason swallowed as Rory's hand clamped his shoulder. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah… I'm… I'm fine," Jason muttered shakily. "What… what was that Thalia girl's last name again?"

A frown spread onto Rory's face. "She never liked her surname," he said thoughtfully, "but I think I heard from Annabeth that it was Grace. Why?"

That was the closure that Jason needed.

This was the girl he had spent the first two years of his life with.

The girl who had cared for him.

The one who drove his nightmares away.

Thalia Grace.

_His sister._

* * *

"_Vlacas_," Annabeth cursed, brushing a piece of stray hair out of her face. "We won't have enough reinforcements." She shook her head as the group of four trudged up Half-Blood Hill wearily.

"It'll be fine, Annabeth," Grover said. He looked paler than usual, and his voice was shaky. "We have Nico, and Tyson. I'm sure things will work out."

Annabeth's eyes stung. She couldn't help but think, _If Percy was here, we would've actually had a fighting chance,_ but she didn't dare say that to Grover, especially after the incident with Pan. Even _she_was still stunned after seeing a god die.

"We'll just have to make do," Nico said, frowning. "If we die… we die."

It wasn't a pleasant thought to think about, but as they approached Thalia's tree, Annabeth pushed Nico's words away from her mind and faced the border patrol. She frowned. There was a border patrol guarding along with Peleus, consisting of a few unfamiliar faces, along with some that she knew. Clarisse and Matthew, for example.

Stepping towards the border patrol, Annabeth's hand twitched to her knife. One of the new people stepped forward, sneering, "And who do you think _you_ are?"

Annabeth's expression changed into surprise, quickly morphing into a sneer as well.

"Annabeth Chase," she said. "And who do _you_ think _you_ are, questioning me entering _my_ Camp?"

"The camp isn't yours, Princess," Clarisse added on the side. She turned to the other demigod. "But she's right—she's been here longest out of all of us, losing only to Mr. D and Chiron."

"Exactly," Annabeth took over. "So, unless you wanna delay a message that could save us all, _let us_—"

"I get it!" the boy yelled, a faint red tinge barely visible on his face through his armor. "Just get in already, gods dammit."

And with that, one of the others took a step out to let them through.

The thought briefly crossed her mind that maybe, just maybe, these were the Romans that Mr. D had been speaking of. But that still didn't explain why they were at Camp Half-Blood, the _Greek _camp.

"Geez," Nico mumbled, running along beside her and the others. "What got into _you_ today?" Annabeth took a second to spare a glance at him.

"We might die at any moment," she said flatly. "You're acting like you don't even care, and we—" Here, she motioned to herself, Tyson, and Grover, "—actually care enough to tell Chiron."

"I'm a son of Hades," Nico replied wryly. "Death is a usual thing for me."

Annabeth merely rolled her eyes, ending their conversation. She turned and called over her shoulder to the border patrol, "Keep watching! We're about to have some really nasty visitors."

Soon, after a few hello's, they arrived at the Big House, where Chiron was sitting in his fake wheelchair.

"Annabeth!" The centaur's face brightened. "It's good to see you all here, safe and—"

"Chiron! No time for small talk," Annabeth interrupted abruptly. She continued, "A battle is coming. Soon. Very soon. And I think we have too few numbers. . . . the battle might be lead by Kronos."

"We need backup," Clarisse insisted. Because of the counselors' meeting, she had to switch out her border patrol position with one of her siblings. "If there's a fight coming on, then Annabeth's right. Even though Romans are here, we still sent some people over _there_, in Camp Jupiter. We're gonna need more ranks."

Just at Annabeth had thought, the unknown teenagers were indeed Romans, who had apparently, switched with half of their campers. The things that happened while she was gone.

Everyone else just sat there in silence, wondering when Clarisse became so serious about this, and willing to admit that even her cabin alone can't handle everything.

"She's right," Silena spoke up. "Let's IM Camp Jupiter to warn them. Maybe get a few more people to be sent over here?"

After a few moments of debating, it was decided to listen to what Silena said.

Annabeth got a spare spray bottle and made a rainbow, while saying, "Someone toss me a drachma."

Someone from the crowd of counselors threw one in her direction, which she caught deftly with her left hand.

"Oh goddess, accept our offering," she started, tossing the drachma into the makeshift rainbow. When it disappeared, she continued, "Show me… uh…"

"Reyna," a blonde boy with electrifying blue eyes(like Thalia's) offered.

"Show me Reyna at Camp Jupiter," Annabeth finished. The image blurred for a moment, then came back into focus.

The sight was a shock to them all. The battle was already brought to the Roman camp, and they even saw a few people down already.

"Reyna!" the boy who had told Annabeth their leader's name called over the sounds of battle. His blue eyes were wide with worry. The praetor's head turned around so fast that it wouldn't be surprised if she got whiplash.

"Jason," she said rather calmly for a person fighting a battle. "What is it?"

"Well, we were _going_ to tell you to prepare for a fight, but—" Annabeth started.

"Yeah. A lot of help that'll do now," Reyna cut off dryly.

"We were hoping we could get some of our campers back, but it'd be best if they stayed where they are, right?" Silena piped through the crowd.

Reyna looked back at the wreckage, giving the counselors a good view at what was going on. A monster came up behind her—a dracanae—and Jason yelled, "Look out!"

Reyna spun around, her eyes meeting the monster's. A smile curled on her lips, and the two fought for a moment, until Reyna stabbed the dracanae in stomach. Carnage lay around her, including her most recent victim.

"Where were we again?" She blew a piece of stray hair away as some of the counselors looked at her in shock that she was taking this completely calmly. Clarisse just smirked; the way this 'Reyna' girl fought in battle was a bit like how she did.

"Oh, yeah," Reyna concluded after. "That'd be rather nice. Listen, you guys need to prepare too. If there's already a fight here, then they'll be one there, too. I guarantee it."

And even though everyone was expecting that already, a few people still couldn't help but be taken off guard.

"I've gotta fight. My men are being brought down. But we'll be alright. We're Roman. I just hope you Greeks can fight monsters as well as you can win Capture the Flag. Because, from what I heard, you beat my soldiers pretty damn hard."

Clarisse couldn't help but grin proudly at that and retort, "Don't worry about that. It's your Roman soldiers that we're really worried about." The only Roman in the room, Jason, rolled his eyes, but said nothing in protest.

Reyna returned the grin. "We'll see about that, _graecus_." She waved a hand through, leaving the Greeks to wonder what _graecus_ meant; they'd heard the word before, what with the majority of Romans using it as either a) a fond nickname or b), a racial slur. A few looked outside of the Big House to see the campers and Romans, all obliviously unaware to what was about to happen.

"Sound the alarm," Annabeth ordered, which Connor Stoll hurried to do. "We need to be prepared to fight."

* * *

After announcements of the situation were over, the peaceful feeling dissolved into a grim one. In what little time they had, everyone got suited up in armor, prepared defense mechanisms that were being tested, or were just made, like the catapults from the Hephaestus cabin. Everyone was set up. The Greeks had training for the inevitable Titan War ever since Percy had come, but the Romans hadn't. Precious time had to be used to prep the Romans as well, while others continued setting up all around the camp.

Then, the preparations had been abruptly put to a halt.

The ground underneath their feet was trembling. Everyone stopped what they were doing. Clarisse barked a single order: "Lock shields!"

And then the Titan lord's army exploded from the Labyrinth.

* * *

**Hehe. Oh, I wooonder what will happen neeeeeext. . . :P**

**Keep on reviewing, we love everyone who does it! **

**xoxo,**

**Gigi.**


	7. Chapter Six: I Fight Beside a Pretty

_**Do as They Do**_

_**By: xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, musiclover99, bubble drizzles, Eleos, larkgrace, it'salloxymorons, and livingondaydreams**_

**AN: One Battle of the Labyrinth, coming right up.**

**This chapter's my chapter again. Wow, can you all believe it's been seven weeks since we started posting?**

**Time flies.**

**Enjoy!**

**-Lex**

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO/HoO. **

**(No playlist again. Forum's gone dead, and I suck at playlists. :3) **

* * *

_Chapter Six: I Fight Beside a Pretty Girl_

_By: xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx_

* * *

The first thought that ran through Jason's mind when all those giant monsters erupted from the ground was, _Holy crap, I'm going to die today. _Then, _But, if I die, I'm not going down without a fight._

At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to be back at Camp Jupiter, defending his actual home. Sure, Camp Half-Blood was great and all, and he didn't want it to be _destroyed_, but he sure as Hades(it sounded better than Pluto, in his opinion) didn't want Camp Jupiter gone either. But, even if he was allowed to go assist his fellow Romans, by the time he reached California, the battle would probably already be over on both sides.

"_Stay next to me," _Chiron had said, voice full of worry, as if Jason was some little kid who needed to be taken care of. Then again, Chiron was supposedly thousands of years old. If that was true, Jason _was _a little kid, compared to him at least.

The Vulcan—er, Hephaestus—counselor, Charles Beckendorf, yelled, "Fire!" and two very large boulders flew through the air. A giant went down, but his friend standing next to him easily deflected the boulder with that _huge _shield of his. The boulder landed about fifteen feet in front of him, and the giant roared angrily, charging into battle.

The coward deep inside of Jason cried for his mommy.

A volley of arrows courtesy of the Apollo Cabin hit many of the giants in their armor. Sometimes, they vaporized on the spot, but most of the time, the monsters merely yanked them out of their skin or armor, looking extremely annoyed.

Jason looked around; none of the foot soldiers had charged yet, but the giants seemed to be overwhelmed by the boulders and arrows that were flying towards them. The battle didn't seem nearly as bad, until…

…out came about thirty or forty snake-looking women—dracanae, he recalled—wearing full armor, and wielding spears and nets. They took off in all different directions, and the infantry ran out to meet them in battle, carefully avoiding the traps and such that had been set. However, the monsters weren't so lucky. Several of them were blown up by the traps; one got stuck on a spike and was easily killed; others were engulfed by Greek fire from pulling a wire. Jason had to hand it to the Greeks—they were pretty good at setting up hidden tricks like the ones he observed right now.

He continued to watch silently, sword unsheathed, just in case some attacked. That pretty blonde girl—Annabeth, he had learned—fought the monsters valiantly, slashing and hacking anything ugly that came in her way. Of course, that didn't include that Cyclops they had brought with them. Speaking of "Tyson," he was currently piggy-backing a giant, and well, it looked hilarious. The Cyclops was beating the giant on the head with his bronze shield—_BONG! BONG! BONG!_

Next to him, Chiron was calmly shooting arrow after arrow and hitting most of his targets. Nothing came at the pair, and Jason almost wondered if he was actually going to get to _fight_ when a group of satyrs fighting a couple of huge hellhounds caught his eye. Chiron yelled, "Go!" and Jason nodded, running off.

_Monsters, beware,_ he thought with a slightly crazy grin, _Jason Grace is back._

* * *

Annabeth Chase wasn't a fan of fighting other demigods. Not at all.

Maybe it was that she was getting too "soft," as Clarisse had stated. Or, maybe, it was because she actually _knew _and remembered most of these traitor demigods—she had seen them all at camp before. After all, she had been going to camp since she was _seven. _She had virtually seen everything from this generation of heroes. Seeing some of them convert to the dark side… it wasn't fun.

And, as much as her brain told her not to, she had to spare the poor demigods' lives. It hurt to kill a fellow demigod, especially if she had personally known them. It just hurt to actually see them fighting against her, against their own kin. So, much like Percy used to do, she spared any of the demigods' lives that came across her path, usually snarling a threat along the lines of, "If you want to live, I suggest you get the Hades out of here," and they would scramble off, and begin fighting someone else, if they were able to.

"What's the matter?" the half-blood she was currently fighting taunted. His blue eyes were barely visible through the large helmet that covered his head. He couldn't have been more than thirteen years old, and he reminded her of Percy, when he first tried on his armor.

Almost everything reminded her of Percy.

"The great Annabeth Chase can't defeat me?" he added with a grunt, pushing her sword back. Sweat lined Annabeth's head, and with a push, the kid fell back onto his bottom.

"What's the matter?" she mocked, brushing away a piece of her hair. The kid glared up at her. "Did the great Annabeth Chase just kick your butt? Sorry." She smiled mock-sweetly, and, using the hilt of her knife, she knocked the kid unconscious.

She turned, ready to run and fight a few more monsters, when she was stopped short by a tall girl with blonde hair and piercing gray eyes. One of her sisters.

"Hi, Annie," the girl sneered. "Remember me?"

* * *

Life sucked sometimes, to say the least.

At the moment, Connor was getting his _ass_ kicked by one of his former _friends_—Ethan Nakamura. Gods, he remembered the day Ethan came to camp. He was a pretty cool kid—fun to be around and nice enough. And, like any new kid, he was crammed into the Hermes Cabin, which gave Connor the perfect opportunity to bond with the new guy. Turns out, they were around the same age(Ethan was a couple of months older than Connor), and they began spending a lot of time together.

For a short while, Connor managed to stop being around Travis, which was something that his brother apparently had wanted for a long time. Ethan became his new pranking partner, and they were best friends. It was pretty awesome, if you asked him.

But, after a half of a year at being at camp, Ethan hadn't been claimed, and to say the least, he was getting a bit bitter. Those six months turned into eight months. Then, ten, and then, a year. The year slowly progressed into two years, and still, Ethan hadn't been claimed. He became bitter, and stopped hanging around Connor. Good, because the son of Hermes didn't think he could stand all the angst and "woe is my life" crap that came from Ethan.

It was the first day of the third year of Ethan being at camp that he disappeared. He'd been claimed the prior night—by Nemesis, goddess of revenge—and, well, he wasn't happy at all. That was the last Connor ever saw of Ethan.

Until today.

"Well, Connor?" Ethan spat as their swords met again. "I bet you're beginning to regret not picking Kronos."

Connor gritted his teeth, pushing forward. Ethan only retaliated, pushing down harder on his sword, and pushing Connor closer to the ground. Still, he hissed, "I regret _nothing_, you traitor."

Ethan's lips curled into a smirk beneath the helmet, and using the trick that Luke had taught him, he disarmed Connor, then shoved the other teen to the ground.

"How did you…" Connor stammered as he backed up from the sword in Ethan's hands, "only Luke… and… Percy can…"

Ethan chuckled. "Just one of the tricks I picked up from Luke," he said casually, grinning down at Connor. "Wanna see another?"

Before Connor could react, a searing pain shot up and down his left arm, and he cried out in pain as Ethan's sword—or maybe it was his own—was removed from his shoulder. Waves of burning agony racked through his arm, and he shuddered, curling back in pain.

"'Wasn't… much… of… a trick," he choked out.

Ethan smiled down at him. "Oh, you haven't seen _anything _yet, Stoll."

* * *

Jason wasn't sure when, but somehow, hundreds of undead soldiers had popped out from the ground and began fighting the Titan army. It was pretty cool… yet extremely creepy. But, in a good way, you know? It worked to their advantage, so, hey, he wasn't complaining.

Oh, yeah, that, and he managed to get back to back with Annabeth Chase somewhere during the battle too. It was pretty good having Annabeth watching your back(_literally_) because she was a demon on the battlefield. Monsters fell before her, and demigods lay motionless at her feet. Gods, he hoped they weren't actually dead. He would never wish that on a person.

"So, uh, Annabeth, is it?" Jason said, as he cut through another monster. It probably wasn't a good time to talk, but that didn't stop Jason.

Annabeth kicked one of the monsters down, panting heavily. "Yeah," she said. "Though, now's not a good time to talk."

"Right. Um… I'm Jason," he said lamely.

"Pleased to meet you. Can we continue this conversation later?"

"Um, sure."

"ANNABETH!" A scream emitted from one of the demigods, and Annabeth's head whipped up. Jason's did too, which was probably stupid, since he should've been paying attention. His eyes found the source of the scream; a now crushed Athena command tent, where a large dragon… scorpion… _thing _was attacking and defeating many campers.

Annabeth cursed in Latin, and Jason briefly wondered where she learned the dead language, as she was a _graecus_, not a Roman. Before he could ask or anything, she stabbed the monster she was fighting, then ran towards the monster.

"Nice talking to you," Jason muttered, before he too ran, knowing that she would probably need his help.

The only thought that was running through his mind was, _Well, if I die, I'll at least die fighting alongside a pretty girl._

* * *

Black. That's all he could see, hear, and feel right now. Oh yeah, and pain. _Extreme_, _burning _pain. Pain that covered a big part of his body, and threatened to rip him apart. Terrible pain.

He was barely aware of his surroundings; all he knew was that there was a battle raging around him, and that he was currently being tortured by his former best friend. His head spun, and he felt like he was going to throw up, then pass out. Still, the pain kept coming. One minute, it would be on his face. The next, his stomach. Then, maybe his arms or legs. It was everywhere, and he couldn't escape it.

The pain cut him to the core, and all he was desperately holding onto now was the thought that, if he died, he wouldn't get the chance to kill the little bastard that had done this to him. He had to survive. He just had to.

"Oh, is poor Connie hurting?" A groan escaped his lips as the sword cut through his face. Sticky drops of blood dripped down onto his already dirty, torn clothes. Ethan laughed. "You know, Stoll, you're more pathetic than I thought you were."

Pressure on his already bruised ribs. Pressure from a boot that kept pushing down further and further, threatening to snap the bones like a twig. Before today, Connor had never expected Ethan to be this strong. But, he sure as Hades was, and Connor was experiencing that strength right now.

"Give up," whispered the son of Nemesis. His voice was cold and merciless. "You're as good as dead."

More pressure, followed by a slice at his chest. The blood dripped onto the grass, surely staining it red. It felt like he couldn't breath—like he was underwater and couldn't resurface. The never-ending darkness called out to him, offering relief from the pain. His head spun, and with another groan, Connor's head slumped to the side wearily.

The last thought before he slipped into unconsciousness was, _I hope you're happy, Ethan._

* * *

Being crushed by some mutant monster thing wasn't exactly something Jason wanted to do everyday. Still, here he was, struggling beneath that… _thing's _forelegs, trying to free himself in vain. Annabeth was next to him, stuck in a similar situation. His eyes stung from the poisonous gases that filled the air. He wanted to throw up.

In short, this monster was kicking his ass.

Jason nearly went cross-eyed from all the snakes at slithered above his head. The monster—gods, why couldn't he remember her name?—raised her two swords, one over Jason, the other over Annabeth, a cruel smiling tugging at her lips. Jason knew that he and Annabeth were… well, pretty much out of options. The best thing to do now was be thankful he was dying next to a pretty girl, and pray that his soul made it to the good part of the Underworld. So much for being the prophecy child.

Then, something howled, and a wall of darkness rammed into the monster, sending her(er… it?) flying. Jason stood up shakily, eyes widening. There, fighting against the monster, was yet _another _monster—a hellhound.

He raised his sword to run and fight, but Annabeth stopped him. "Wait," she said. "She's friendly. Promise."

He stared at her incredulously, but decided not to question her word. After all, children of Miner—_Athena_—usually were right, and it probably wasn't a good idea to doubt her.

"Good girl!" a voice called. Jason looked up to see an old man—well, not too terribly old—fighting his way through the entrance of the Labyrinth. He frowned. Wait, if the enemy was coming out of the Labyrinth, and this man was fighting the enemy… Well, it didn't make much sense.

Oh yeah, and, that was only half of it. Another giant—much bigger than the ones he had just fought—with at least a hundred arms was picking up boulders and chucking them at the enemy.

"Briares!" Tyson's voice was filled with relieved joy.

The giant smiled down at the Cyclops, and called back, "Stand firm, little brother!" before sending another round of boulders through the air, right towards the monster. With a quick leap, the hellhound jumped out of the way, and dust flew everywhere as the boulder impacted with the ground. Once Jason could properly see again, he realized that the monster he and Annabeth were just fighting had been squashed by all the boulders.

A cheer arose from the campers, and Jason felt relieved. The battle was nearly over.

But the enemies weren't done yet, apparently.

One of the dracanae yelled, "Ssssslay them! Kill them all or Kronossss will flay you alive!"

If Jason had been on the opposing side… well, he probably would've gotten his sorry _podex _off of the ground, and fought like Pluto.

The giants stumbled forward, clubs in hand, and looking much more scared than they had during the beginning of the battle. Jason glanced towards Annabeth to see what she was going to do, but she merely stood there, soaking everything in. A tear slid down her cheek, but he pretended not to see that.

Then, a horrible, extremely _loud _sound spread over the entire camp.

Automatically, Jason's hands went to his ears, but he could still hear the scream—a sound of pure fear. He searched around desperately to locate the source of the sound and _shut it up_, only to find that it was coming from the satyr Annabeth had returned with. _Grover_, Jason thought.

"Look," Annabeth whispered, pointing in the direction of the entrance the monsters had all come in.

The entire army was desperately scrambling back inside of the Labyrinth. The dracanae were being trampled by the giants, as were a few of the enemy demigods. Once the army was gone, the tunnel rumbled shut.

The battle was over.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Jason turned to Annabeth. "So… I guess we should go help the wounded, huh?"

Her gray eyes searched over the camp, and Jason began to realize that nearly the entire camp fell under the category of 'wounded'. Then, without answering Jason, she ran over to Chiron.

"'Sure, Jason,'" he muttered in a bad impression of Annabeth, "'let's go help the wounded. Great idea.'" Here his voice returned to normal, "Well, thanks, Annabeth!"

Eventually, Jason too made it to Chiron's side, where Annabeth was saying, "You need help. I'll get a medic from the Apollo Cabin."

"No," Chiron said firmly. "There are more serious injuries to attend to… Go! I will be fine." Annabeth sighed as Chiron turned his attention to Grover.

"You okay?" Jason placed his arm on her shoulder. She didn't shrug it off.

"There have been too many lives lost," was all she muttered. "Too many." Jason couldn't help but shake the feeling that she _might _be talking about the prophecy child before him… Percy Jackson. Had the two been friends?

Before being able to respond, Jason was once again left alone, because Annabeth was running towards Tyson, and a small, black-haired boy that lay still on the ground. The grass around him was yellow and rotting. It was disgusting.

Jason sighed as he stared at the camp; bodies lay everywhere, some dead, others not. Blood stained the green grass, and the camp was pretty much wrecked. He couldn't help but wonder if Camp Jupiter had more success than Camp Half-Blood had.

Because, while they had won the battle, they had lost a big part of their camp. Faces he recognized lay, motionless on the ground. Other campers were groaning and moaning in pain. Fires destroyed a big part of the woods. It was a victory, but a shallow one.

Before Jason could process what was happening, the earth began rumbling beneath his feet. A hellhound howled, and he raised his sword, expecting another fight, when a hand touched his leg. He looked down to see Chiron giving him a reassuring look.

"The battle is over for today, my boy," he promised. "Grover's panic has caused the enemy to flee to the darkest parts of the Labyrinth once again. You mustn't worry for right now; just help the wounded."

Jason breathed a sigh of relief, then, threw his sword into the air, where it turned into a golden coin. For probably the millionth time, Jason caught the coin expertly and tucked it back into his pocket. He smiled briefly at Chiron, then walked towards the bodies, searching for survivors.

What he found while searching made him sick. Many of the demigods were dead, or close enough to dying that no amount of ambrosia or nectar could save them. Their blank eyes desperately pleaded for him to just end their lives—to make the pain stop. He couldn't bring himself to look at the bodies for long. Some of these people were close friends. It hurt too much to dwell on.

As Jason continued his walk, he heard a groan come from one of the fallen half-bloods. Looking around intently, he quickly found that the sound had come from Connor Stoll, who lay in a puddle of his own blood, brown hair plastered to his forehead. His shirt was torn; his sword was nowhere to be seen.

The sight of him made Jason disgusted.

"I need a medic over here!" he yelled. One of Apollo's blonde children looked up from another body, then ran over to where he stood, brushing the hair out of her eyes.

As the girl kneeled down next Connor, she gasped, heeding no attention to Jason. She began muttering a healing spell, and after a few moments of that and feeding him nectar and ambrosia, Connor's tense form relaxed, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

The Apollo girl stood up, expression dark and blue eyes sad. "I'm glad you called me over when you did, Jason," she said quietly. "A few minutes later… we would've been in some trouble. He's lost a lot of blood, but I think he'll be okay."

Jason nodded. "I'm glad. 'Seems like a nice guy."

The girl shrugged. "Yeah, well, anyone that isn't the enemy is 'nice' in my opinion. I'll see you around, okay?" After Jason nodded again, the girl walked away, probably to go find another person to treat.

The son of Jupiter bent down next to his fallen comrade, who looked like he had been through Hades and back. He felt strangely… responsible for Connor being hurt, despite the fact that he didn't even know him that well. It was just that… _he _was supposed to be the hero, and these were the people he was supposed to be leading. The fact that so many people were dead, dying, or injured…

What did _that _have to say about this leadership skills?

Jason sighed, gathering up Connor is his arms to take him to the infirmary, or what was left of it. The other teenager groaned again, arms and legs flopping everywhere limply as Jason carried—more like dragged—him away.

The thought stayed in his mind as he eventually made it to the infirmary, setting Connor down on one of the remaining beds. Just seeing the broken people in the infirmary made him feel even worse. How could so many people be injured, when he turned out practically fine?

Jason fell into one of the seats, burying his head in his hands. Gods, he felt awful. Just _awful_. He wanted to find Kronos and rip his throat out for doing this to so many innocent people.

Looking up, Jason sighed. There was work to be done outside, and he didn't need to be in here, acting all depressed and such. No matter what, he had a duty to do, even if he failed at it. So, he stood up, and walked out of the room, but not before stopping at the doorway and turning to the kids that were in the beds.

"I'm going to make it up to you," Jason whispered. "Whoever did this to you… they're going down. I promise you that."

And, maybe it was his imagination, but as he walked out of the infirmary, he could've sworn he heard a weak, tired, "Thank you…"

* * *

**AN: And so begins a new challenge for you guys. Somewhere in this chapter, one of us authors made a cameo. It's your job to locate that cameo, and name which author was it. From here on out, we shall be making random appearances. :3 Whoever guesses first gets virtual cookies: (::) (::) (::) (::) (::) **


	8. Chapter Seven: I Beat Octavian

_**Do As They Do**_

_**by: bubble drizzles, larkgrace, bookluva98, Eleos, musiclover99, xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx**_

* * *

_Chapter 7: I Beat Octavian At His Own Game_

_bubble drizzles_

* * *

Jason wasn't part of this camp, this wasn't his _home_, but he couldn't help but feel really bad seeing the camp burial shrouds wrapped around dead bodies.

He wondered how many people had died back in Camp Jupiter. Apparently, they had managed to drive the enemy army back. There were a few casualties, Reyna had told them when they IMed her after the battle, but most of the Romans had gotten out alive.

Still, Jason could see the pained look on his Praetor's face, especially when she told them one of the victims was Lucas, her partner. He saw her piercing dark eyes soften for a bit, before Octavian called her and she sighed, telling them she needed to take care of her campers. She was in charge, the dead and injured were _her_ responsibility.

For once, Jason understood what she felt. Being the son of Jupiter was always hard, but now he was also the _prophecy child_. He was the one supposed to defeat Kronos, yet he was alive, and people were dying in his place.

Among the dead in Camp Half-Blood were Lee Fletcher from the Apollo cabin and Castor, son of Dionysus. The Romans held themselves pretty well; only Patricia Condie from the Fifth Cohort, daughter of Vulcan, and William Dornes, First Cohort, and Julius Junior, Fifth Cohort, both sons of Mars, had passed away.

It was still a shock for Jason to see three people he knew so well, two from his very own Cohort, lay lifeless in front of him. If he was feeling like this, he couldn't imagine what the Greeks were going through. Their camp was destroyed, almost everybody was wounded, and they still had to burn the shrouds of ten of their brothers and sisters.

He spotted Annabeth seated alone, in a far corner of the amphitheater and decided to go and talk to her. He didn't know why, but he felt so attracted to that pretty girl. It wasn't like he was falling for her, he barely even _knew_ her, but something always pulled him towards her.

"Hey," he said, sitting next to her.

She looked up, pushing her blonde hair behind her ears, "Oh, hi."

"You ok?"

She nodded, "Fine." She looked down, back to her book.

Awkward silence.

_Say something, Grace_, he told himself.

"So... Annabeth..." he nervously spoke, "You uh, come here often?"

Annabeth turned her attention to him once again and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, no! Not like that. I-I mean," he stammered, "Like you come here often as in- Like, _here_ in the amp-"

Closing her book, she got up, "I better check on my half-siblings. Rudy's death has been pretty harsh on our whole cabin."

"Sure, go ahead. Good luck!" he said, but realized she was already gone.

_Smooth, Grace_, a little voice spoke in his head, _Very_, very_ smooth_.

* * *

Rory sighed, resting his head on his hands, his messy brown hair falling over the typical Athena grey eyes.

The Athena cabin was a mess. Hades, the _whole camp_ was a mess, physically and mentally.

It had been one week since the battle, but there were still a few wounded in the infirmary. Most had only gotten out yesterday, hence why Chiron hadn't wanted to burn the shrouds the day after the battle.

"Let's wait," he had said, "Many people are badly wounded, but they have the right to attend the burning of their half-siblings' shrouds."

But Rory could tell that he was waiting to see if he would need more shrouds, for those who were in more delicate conditions.

He felt someone sit next to him in his bed and looked up to find Annabeth, looking tired and sad.

"Hey, Rory. How are you?"

He managed a small grin, "Not injured. That's definitely a plus."

She gave him a soft smile, but it fell shortly after, "I'm _so_ sorry."

"For what?" he frowned.

"I'm the leader of this cabin. I should have protected you all, but I didn't. Rudy- she's-" she sighed, "It's all my fault."

Rory looked at his older half-sister and put a hand on her shoulder, "Rudy didn't deserve the ending she got. She was one of the best people I had ever met. But it wasn't your fault,

Anna."

"Yes it was. I'm the leader, and leaders are responsible for their team-"

"You warned us about them. If it weren't for you, more people would have died."

"Then why do I feel incredibly _guilty_?" her eyes were watery, he noticed, though she tried to hide it,

"You've had a lot on you ever since you... ever since you came back from the Labyrinth. Rudy wouldn't want you to feel guilty. She died fighting for what she believed in, I'm sure she'll achieve Elysium."

"I certainly hope she does," she turned to him.

"She will," he said, firmly, "Plus, seeing all these people wounded and dead really helped us, you know?"

"How so?"

"Well, I don't think anyone has ever been more angry at Kronos and his army. I doubt anyone will want to change sides after seeing all of this destruction."

"I guess..." she smiled, "When did you get so smart? I mean, smarter than _me_."

He laughed, "Oh, sis, being a leader in Capture the Flag can really change people."

* * *

The Council of Cloven Elders held an emergency meeting the next day to decide Grover's fate. The three senior satyrs - Silenus, Leneus, and Maron - were there, along with Chiron and hundreds of satyrs, dryads and naiads.

Silenus wanted to exile Grover right away, but Chiron persuaded him to let Grover explain.

"It was panic," Juniper insisted, after Grover told them the story, "Grover summoned the power of the wild god."

"Preposterous!" Silenus bellowed, "Sacrilege! Perhaps the wild god favored us with a blessing. Or perhaps Grover's music was so awful it scared the enemy away!"

Annabeth rolled her eyes, already getting impatient. It was _Kronos' army_! They wouldn't just run away from 'awful music', Grover summoned panic, she was sure of it.

Grover, on the other hand, looked calm. "That wasn't it, sir," he said, "He let his spirit pass into all of us. We must act. We must spread the words, Pan is dead. There is no one but us, we must renew the wild."

"We have searched for two thousand years and this is what you want us to believe?" Silenus cried, "Never! We will continue the search and you, traitor, shall be exiled! Let's vote, who would believe a foolish young satyr, anyway?"

"I would," said a familiar voice.

Everyone turned, watching as Dionysus strode into the grove, "I bear bad news, my friends. Evil news. The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone over to the enemy, along with Hecate, Janus, and Nemesis. Now, I want to hear Grover's story. Again, from the top."

"But, my lord," Silenus protested, "It's nonsense!"

"I have just learned that my son Castor is dead, Silenus, and that his brother Pollux is badly injured in Camp Jupiter," his eyes flashed with purple fire, "I am not in a good mood."

Silenus gulped, and waved at Grover to start again.

Dionysus nodded when Grover finished, "Yes, yes. Sounds like the sort of thing Pan would do. Grover is right, the search is tiresome."

"But sir, it's ridiculous! We must exile the traitor!" Silenus insisted.

"I say no," Dionysus countered, "That's my final vote."

"I vote no as well," Chiron put in.

"I'm in favor of the exile," Silenus said, and Maron and Leneus agreed, "Three to two."

"But a god's vote counts twice," Dionysus said, smugly, "How unfortunate for you, we're tied."

"This is outrageous!"

"Then dissolve the council, I don't care."

The three old satyrs bowed stiffly and left, followed by about twenty satyrs. The rest stood around, unsure of what they were supposed to be doing now.

"Don't worry," Grover told them, "We don't need them."

He started dividing the satyrs into small groups - which would go to the small parks, which ones would search out the last wild places, which would defend parks in big cities.

"I'm so proud of you, Grover," Annabeth told him, giving him a big hug.

"Me too," Juniper agreed, tears in her eyes, "You're growing up, my big satyr!"

* * *

_"_Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering,_" _Annabeth said, throwing a drachma in the rainbow, "Show me Reyna at Camp Jupiter,"

A dark-eyed girl with glossy black hair was sitting in a throne, eyes closed and holding the bridge of her nose, as if in pain. Annabeth coughed, and she looked up, eyes widening and hands going to her head to fix her messy hair. "Annabeth," she exclaimed in surprise,

"Hi."

"Hi Reyna, sorry to bother you."

Reyna waved her hand nonchalantly, "It's nothing. How... How are you?"

"As fine as anyone could be right now," Annabeth managed a weak smile, "And you?"

"Tired, nervous. It's so frustrating having to do everything alone, especially in times like these. The camp is so depressed and moody and _ugh_. I-I'm sorry," she sighed, "You obviously had something important to say to me and I'm here ranting. These days have been so difficult, I tend to blow up on the first person that comes to me."

"It's ok, things here haven't been that well either. I just wanted to give you the full report on your Roman campers; the injured and uh... dead."

"Oh, yes. I have the names of the wounded here to give you too,"

"All of the Romans were at least a bit injured - with the exception of Jason Grace, Marina Meters and Henry Rune - , but most of them left the infirmary last night. The only one still there is Nicholas Collins, but the Apollo campers say he'll be out by next week at the latest," Annabeth informed her, "Three of your Roman campers... died. They were Julius Junior, from the Fifth Cohort, William Dornes, from the First Cohort, and Patricia Condie, from the Fifth Cohort."

Reyna simply nodded, "Likewise, all of your Greeks were wounded, no exceptions. They are all fine, only Elisha Discord, daughter of Mar- I mean, Ares, and Pollux Vin, son of Dionysus, are in more critical conditions, but nothing that can't be solved. The only death we had on your side was Tori Osborne, daughter of Apollo."

Annabeth felt her heart tighten at the mention of Tori, but was also relieved to know that there weren't any more deaths, "Thank you, Reyna, for telling me."

"We're both leaders, Annabeth. We have to know all the facts, the good and the bad."

She nodded, "Unfortunately. Also, I wanted to know if you could send Travis Stoll back to Camp Half-Blood, only for a week or so."

Reyna raised an eyebrow, "Um, if you don't mind me asking, why?"

"His brother, Connor, he... he's been in the infirmary unconscious ever since the battle. Lost a lot of blood. He'll be okay, but I think Travis would want to see him."

"Alright, I'll send him as soon as possible with a companion, I fear it would be too risky if he went alone. Perhaps I'll send Katie Gardner," she grinned.

Annabeth laughed, "If they don't kill each other first."

"It was nice talking to you, Annabeth," Reyna sighed, "But I have to go. I have a new Praetor to elect."

"Oh, Reyna?"

"Yes?"

"If you're worried about the campers, playing games always helped us here in Camp Half-Blood."

Reyna smiled, "Thank you."

* * *

"Ow!" Annabeth heard a young girl shout as soon as she entered the infirmary,

"Will you quit squirming and let me disinfect your wound?"

"I will when it stops hurting worse than the wound itself!"

She walked over to the girl - she had to be about twelve, with dark hair and dark brown eyes - and Will Solace, who was taking care of her. Well, _trying_ to.

"Hey Will," Annabeth greeted.

Will looked up, "Annabeth, hey."

"How is he?"

Will sighed, knowing exactly who _he_ was, "The same. Still hasn't woken up. Have you talked to Reyna?"

Annabeth glanced at the girl, who seemed to be paying attention to their every word, "Maybe we should talk somewhere else."

"Yeah," Will agreed, "Let me take you to his bed." He turned to the girl, "You stay right here, I won't be long."

"It's not like I can go anywhere else," they heard the girl yell, "Take your time, _please_!"

"Well," Will said, closing the door behind him, "Here he is."

Connor was unconscious on a bed, gashes and cuts visible all over his body.

Annabeth gasped, "Oh my. Will... what happened?"

"Daniel Seuss, the Roman son of Hermes - err, Mercury - told me he saw a boy with a black eye patch digging his sword in Connor's body. He tried to help, but he was wrapped up in his own fight."

"Black eye patch," Annabeth's eyes widened, "Ethan Nakamura."

Will nodded, "Nakamura did this to him."

"All these cuts... will he be alright?"

"We think so. Meaning, he's going to live, and for the most part the damage isn't anything that can't be fixed," Will said.

"For the most part?"

"He got the worst of it on his back. we did everything we could, but his nerve endings were destroyed. He won't feel anything when someone touches his back."

Annabeth closed her eyes, "I talked to Reyna. She's gonna send Travis."

Will nodded, "Then I better get to work. Hopefully, we'll have Connor awake by the time he arrives."

"I hope."

* * *

"Reyna?" Malcolm called, as he walked into the Principia. "Whoa," he said, taking in his surroundings. The principia was even more impressive inside than on the outside.

On the ceiling glittered a mosaic of Romulus and Remus and the floor was polished marble. The walls were draped in velvet and along the back wall stood a display of banners and medals —military symbols, he guessed. In the back corner, a stairwell led down. In the center of the room was a long wooden table filled with scrolls, notebooks, tablet computers, daggers, and a large bowl filled with jelly beans, which made Malcolm smile. He really loved jelly beans.

Two life-sized statues of greyhounds—one silver, one gold—flanked the table and two chairs that looked a lot like thrones stood behind it.

"The principia really is something, isn't it?"

Malcolm turned around, "Reyna. Sorry, I-I didn't see you there."

The girl smiled, "That's because I _wasn't_ here."

"Oh..."

"I was talking with Travis Stoll. His brother is unconscious, he'll be going back to Camp Half-Blood to visit him."

"_C-Connor?_ What happened? What can we do to help?"

"I'm afraid we can do nothing to help the other camp right now," she sat down, "But, _you_ can help _this_ camp."

"Um, what? I-I'm not following."

Reyna sighed, "You might have noticed how the camp is a mess ever since the battle." When he nodded, she continued, "Everyone's feeling down and hopeless. You can help them."

"I don't understand."

"Malcolm, I saw you during the war games. You're a great leader. And a child of Minerva is _exactly_ what we need for planning, and battle strategies. Now more than ever."

"Reyna-"

"You and I together, we could bring this camp back. We could lift their spirits, we could make them realize that all hope is not lost, that we have something worth fighting for. Lucas is _dead_," Malcolm saw her flinch, "the camp needs a new Praetor."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Sit on this throne," she motioned to the seat next to her, "and become the other Praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata."

* * *

"Jason," Annabeth said, sitting down next to him on the beach, "Hi."

Jason looked up, surprised. What was pretty girl doing here? Talking to _him_? He had to be dreaming, it was the only way. Annabeth had never even looked twice in his direction, no matter how many times he tried to talk to her, to be friends with her.

He blinked, "Annabeth... hey..."

She frowned, "Look, I wanted to apologize."

"_Apologize_?"

"For ignoring you yesterday morning. I was just so... stressed out," she shrugged, "I don't know. Everything has been happening way too fast."

"I understand," he sighed.

The cool afternoon breeze messing up their hair, the sun starting to set... it all seemed like a movie.

Except for this. Yeah, there it was again. That _damned awkward silence_.

"One night I went to sleep as Jason Grace, member of the Fifth Cohort," he said, suddenly. She turned her head towards him, those beautiful gray eyes fixing him intently.

"When I woke up, it was just another normal day," he laughed, "Well, I _thought_ it was."

She said nothing, but he took that as a sign that he should continue, "It was all the same. Until Mars showed up. And then, out of nowhere, I became Jason Grace, Prophecy Child."

Annabeth looked at him sympathetically and gave him a soft smile, "Sometimes I wish I could go back in time. And just enjoy it. Go back to when life was great, we were all happy."

Somehow, Jason got the feeling that what she was saying was related to the old prophecy kid - Percy Jackson.

"Were you guys friends?" he asked, before he could lose the courage.

Jason half-expected Annabeth to glare at him, or slap him, or just walk away. Instead, she only sighed, and after a minute or so, she nodded. Though she was looking down, he could see the tears in her eyes.

"We weren't only friends, we were... _best_ friends. We did _everything_ together. We went on our first quest together, on his first year at camp, and began a- a _beautiful_ friendship. We were partners for Capture the Flag, we ran away from camp to go on a quest," she laughed at the memory, "Even though it wasn't _our_ quest, it was Clarisse's. I think you understand what Clarisse's like, so it would be an understatement to say she was _furious_."

They both laughed and Annabeth continued, "Last year, during a mission to rescue two demigods in the winter, I was sort of... kidnapped. There was this big quest to rescue Artemis, cause she had been kidnapped too, and Percy ended up not being chosen to go. But still, he- he followed them, he held up the _sky_ for me, he helped save me."

Annabeth smiled, "I loved his mom, his mom loved me. I- I ran away from home when I was seven, and he... Percy, he was the only one who got me to talk to my dad again, to live with him again. If I have a family now, it's thanks to Percy. I owe him a lot."

Jason didn't know what to say. He never expected Annabeth to tell him this, any of this.

As if she was reading his mind, she sighed, "And I don't even know why I told you all of this. I barely know you. It's just..." she looked at him, "You remind me of him, for some reason."

He managed a weak smile, "I'm assuming that's a good thing?"

She laughed, "I don't know. He was an idiot at times. I mean, he told me to get out of Mount Saint Helens and look where that got hi-" she shuddered, "Anyway, he was an idiot, but Thalia and him, they were my best friends."

Jason seemed taken aback, "W-Wait _Thalia_?"

"Your half-sister, daughter of Zeus," Annabeth nodded, "She's my best friend, although I don't see her as much since she joined the Hunters..."

"Tell me about her."

* * *

Reyna looked at him, "Are you ready?"

He wasn't sure. Was he ready for this? Was he ready to become Praetor of the Twelfth Legion? A _leader_?

Leading the Athena cabin, or his team in Capture the Flag, was one thing. He was about to become leader of a _whole camp_.

If they accepted him, that is. Despair started taking control of him, what if they _didn't_ accept him as their praetor? What if he was utterly _humiliated_?

Reyna seemed to be reading his mind, "Relax, Malcolm. You'll be fine."

He nodded, "I'm ready."

Together, they stepped out into the mess hall. It wasn't dinner time yet, but Reyna had gathered everyone, telling them she had an important announcement.

Murmurs swept the room, every single person wondering what was it that she had to say, and why in the name of Jupiter was Malcolm with her.

"May I have everyone's attention, please?"

All the talking ceased immediately.

"As all of you know, our Praetor Lucas passed away during the battle," Reyna spoke firmly, "I have thought about it, and decided that it is time to pick a new Praetor."

Octavian smiled brightly. He would become Praetor in a few minutes. It was obvious it would be him, there were no better choices. He would admit he _did_ feel a bit threatened by Jason Grace - he _was_ a son of Jupiter, after all - but now that the kid was gone, he was the best choice. He was the _only_ choice.

"I have already chosen my ideal partner, but he must have the majority accept him. Otherwise, we will pick a new praetor."

That wasn't a problem for Octavian. He knew the majority would accept him, what was _blackmailing_ for? Plus, he was feared by. They wouldn't _dare_ vote against him.

"My Praetor of choice is _Malcolm Cambridge_," Reyna said. Seeing all the shocked expressions and whispers that were starting to fill the room, she continued, "I know he is Greek, but he's one of us now. Greeks and Romans, we have to work together to defeat our enemy. Malcolm is clearly the best choice for us, believe me. All in favor, raise their hands?"

This was it. They had to accept him, they just _had_ to. Malcolm looked over the hall, people were talking things over with the friends next to them. Greeks were the first to raise their hands, and that was a huge relief for Malcolm. The Greeks had all been taken off probatio when they proved themselves by defending the Roman camp, and now they were able to participate in the voting of their new Praetor.

Slowly, the Romans started raising their hands as well, much to Octavian's dismay.

Reyna smiled, "More than half of the campers have accepted. It is official, welcome our new Praetor, Malcolm Cambridge."

Malcolm stepped forward, "Uh, hi. Listen, I-I know that I'm a Greek. But Camp Jupiter is becoming my home, I would do anything to protect it, and to protect you all. Thank you, so much, for accepting me. I won't let you down, I promise."

And then they cheered. They actually _cheered_ for him. Malcolm smiled widely, while Reyna announced, "And we have noted most of you have been a little down. Tomorrow you'll all be excused of your duties, and it was Malcolm's idea for us to have a sports tournament."

As everyone laughed and grinned and acted _happy_, Malcolm thought this was probably the best day of his life.


	9. Chapter Eight Preview

_**Do As They Do**_

_**By: xXxDaughteroftheKingxXx, musiclover99, bubble drizzles, Eleos, larkgrace, itsallanoxymoron**_, _**livingondaydreams**_

**AN: So, you probably noticed we've been gone...a long time.**

**I have a perfectly good explanation for that.**

**You see, we didn't want to post Chapter 8(sorry, I've been saying Chapter 9 on my profile :P) without having at least a few more chapters written ahead of time. Long story short, after the forums like exploded way back when, we got distracted, and haven't written a chapter since 9. Then Emily like disappeared, and everyone got busy, and yeah. **

**So, we're still kind of missing Kelly and Emily—Emily's here, just not as Eleos. Kelly's on vacation, or something like that. But never fear, the next chapter is going to be written by Janae this week, and Max should be starting on 11 soon. If Kelly comes back, she's writing 12, but if not, I've got that one, and we're back on schedule...kind of.**

**We apologize for our delay of the chapters, and we probably should've told you guys this sooner, but seriously, at least half of us have spent our time on Tumblr, following Legend of Korra things, and such and such. Myself included. So, sorry we haven't updated, but to compensate for the long wait, and however long the next wait is, here is a preview of Chapter 8. **

**Disclaimer: We don't own PJO/HoO.**

* * *

_Chapter 8 Preview_

_Games and Guilt_

_By larkgrace_

* * *

Percy took a deep breath. Calm.

He absolutely could not stand still anymore, and there was no going back to sleep now, so he started wandering. The downside to living on an island like Ogygia was that there was a very limited wandering range, and he found himself just outside the garden, where Calypso was planting moonlace. He leaned against a boulder, hoping she didn't notice him, and listened while she serenaded the plants.

_I'll come home someday, just to have you by my side,_

_For my dreams pull me back there like the moon pulls back the tide_

_And I will love you, dear, until the seas run dry,_

_I am yours now and forever, 'til the stars fall from the sky_

He felt like he'd been slapped in the face. He felt like a monster.

Because when he closed his eyes, it was _Annabeth_ he imagined singing.

He ran.

* * *

**AN: And so, this is the first(...I think) of the many times we see Percy in DaTD. **

**Thanks for being so patient with us! **

**-Lex**


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